


Self-Defense in the Workplace

by DJClawson



Series: Theodore Nelson's Adventures in Sharing a Workspace [23]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Case Fic, Coming Out, Drugs, F/M, Gen, Homosexuality, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Time Skips, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 82,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJClawson/pseuds/DJClawson
Summary: Sometimes, being besties with every vigilante in town isn't enough.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you to LachesisMeg for her beta work!
> 
> And now, time for a fic where I tackle some big issues while also trying to knock out some of fills.
> 
> If you're new to the series, this fic isn't the first place to start, as I've built up some fanon here. For everyone returning, here's a quick family tree to remind people of the characters I've used/made based on whether I made them up or what episode they first appeared in)
> 
> Unnamed Grandparents (OCs) had two sons: Timothy Nelson (302) and Edward Nelson (302). The grandfather founded Nelson's Fine Meats, which Edward inherited. Timothy founded a construction company.
> 
> -> Timony Nelson (302) married Jeanie (302) had two sons: Duncan Nelson (OC) and Andy Nelson (OC)  
> -> Edward Nelson (302) married Anna (302) had two sons: Theo Nelson (302) and Foggy Nelson (101)
> 
> \--> Andy Nelson married Josephine (OC) and they had four children: Olivia (302), Colin (302), Ruth (302), and Mary (OC). Andy now runs his father's construction company. (Duncan was mentioned in passing in "The Big Sibling Book")
> 
> For timeline reasons, some of the events of this story take place concurrently to other stories, which I'll make a note of in the few chapters where that happens. Chapter 1 begins prior to the events of "Staying Safe in the Snow" when Theo is outed to his family, and covers the next few stories, including the christening of Theo's goddaughter.

Theo’s cousin Andy called on a Monday and asked if Theo wanted to go out. He had a lunch meeting with an architecture firm in the city at an overpriced restaurant where everyone celebrated a major deal by expensing it on the developer’s dime. In the old days, when Theo was just an employee, he could take off for the afternoon, but now he had the shop to himself and it was all hands on deck. Andy offered to kill time in the city - his wife wanted some things from Zabar’s - until Theo could close up.

“So,” Andy said, referring to the shop, “it’s all yours.”

“Yeah.” Theo was less enthusiastic about it and more exhausted from a long day on his feet. And he was still getting used to the traffic of a law firm with clients in his back room. Not to mention dancing around Matt all day, pretending everything was normal for the sake of appearances. 

“We should celebrate.”

“Mom and Pop still have the controlling shares.”

“But you’re doing all the work,” Andy said, “while your parents cruise into retirement. Just like my parents did.” 

Theo actually didn’t know if Andy owned the construction company outright, or if his father was still involved financially. It never interested him or seemed right to ask. “It was time. Pop’s arthritis is... he’s been playing it down, but he shouldn’t be holding a cleaver.”

“When I wanted my dad to stay home, I bought him a Lazy-Boy recliner. He’s never gotten out of it.” He looked down at the app on his phone. “You seen the menu at the new Wakandan place on 48th?”

“It’s gonna be pricey and confusing, but if you’re buying, I can definitely handle it.”

“Jo says I eat too many subs,” Andy said. “If it’s any good, I’ll take her there. Hopefully before she pops.”

Theo finished locking up the front and they walked downtown. “Can you still say that?”

“I can’t keep track of what I can say anymore,” he admitted. “We’re still going back and forth with the doc about Caeserian. Everyone induces labor these days. Like it’s any other appointment you make. Haircut, teeth cleaning - whatever.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Whatever Jo wants, obviously,” Andy said, which was usually his answer about these sorts of things. Aside from the obvious strains of raising three - soon to be four - kids on a single salary, their marriage always seemed to be doing fine. Theo liked being vicariously happy for them. “She sends her best. She wants you to come more often, but she understands that it’s a crazy time. Oh, and she says if you want to turn the shop into a vegetable smoothie bar, you have her full support.”

“She would be the only one,” Theo said. “And you gotta make it a fruit smoothie bar with a veggie option. Otherwise, you’re doomed.”

It was still fairly cold, but Manhattan was rarely freezing, with the tall buildings blocking the winds, the low altitude of the bay, and the heat from the bodies of tourists and shops with open doorways. The place was a hole in the wall, but that was part of the decor - no one knew what an African restaurant was really supposed to look like. And the smaller they made the tables, the more people they could fit. Theo and Andy ended up crammed up against a wall decorated with African masks and writing they couldn’t read in shimmering logos, the table barely able to fit just the two of them. 

Andy looked at the drink menu stand and said, “Are we going for the kpótomenui?”

“I’ve had it. It’s palm wine. Lots of sugar. Heavily fortified. We should probably share one or we won’t make it out of here.” 

“That’s saying something.” 

The dishes were numbered so they wouldn’t embarrass themselves trying to order. There were a lot of dishes with beans, plantains, and rice, so Theo was more than fine. He was impressed that the waiter had a holographic version of a Starkpad, and she was more than willing to serve them one order of kpótomenui in two glasses.

After they downed their very sweet drinks, Andy said, “So Duncan’s getting out.”

“Shit, I’d forgotten! I’m a terrible cousin,” Theo said. “I’m sorry, with all of the drama - “

“It’s not like it’s tomorrow,” Andy said. “It looks like he’s just going to miss the new baby. I said maybe we could have another one, and Jo just gave me a look.” He did his best imitation of his wife with fury in her eyes. “But she gave me that look after the third kid, so we’ll see.”

“It’s been twenty years already? I feel old.” He also felt guilty. “Should I have visited him?”

Andy waved it off. “You weren’t close. The only people who’ve visited are my parents and me. I took Jo after we got engaged, but we never brought the kids. Prison is not a good place for them to meet their uncle. Even Duncan said that.” 

“I think I wanted to send him a card, his first birthday in there, but my mom said it might depress him.” 

“She signed for you and Foggy in the family cards we would mail him in a big package,” Andy explained. “He never said anything about people not visiting him. His mind’s been on other things. So don’t worry about it. Let’s just celebrate when he’s out.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“I saw him in December. The pre-Christmas visit. I could tell he was getting antsy, which is good. Sometimes he calls, but he knows my focus is on Jo, so he’s been calling Mom more instead. She passed on that he wants me waiting outside with a cheeseburger and extra large fries, and he’ll know if I sneak any while I’m waiting.”

“That does sound like him,” Theo said. “What’s he look like?”

“Me, basically. But a little taller, and with a lot more muscle. And he’s grayer - not really bad, just the stress of being inside, I guess.” Andy gestured to his thinning hairline. Andy would look more like Theo if he were thinner, but most people in the family weren’t as thin as Theo. And hair came from the mother’s side, right? “However he looks, tell him he looks good.”

“You think he’s gonna fall for that?”

“You should still say it. Mom said to.”

Andy focused on his food and Theo took a breath. “Are you nervous?”

“Why would I be nervous?”

“The answer can just be ‘No, I’m not nervous,’” Theo replied. 

But Andy hadn’t said that, and he hadn’t bothered to kill a day in Manhattan to fit Theo’s schedule for nothing. He finished chewing his mouthful of bread. “I don’t think prison shaved off the rough edges, if you know what I mean. He’s gonna need a lot of support to get on his feet and stay there. We haven’t discussed it, but when I hire him, I know he’s not going to want to start at the bottom, but I can’t not do that - that’s not fair to my other employees. Everyone gets the same deal. Even I got started hauling lumber and digging pits in the rain. Maybe I can escalate him up the ladder a little faster but ... it can’t be obvious. But he’s my older brother, you know? In his mind, he’s supposed to be in charge.”

Not that Duncan had been a wise enough decision maker to earn himself the position of manager of a construction company. But everyone made mistakes when they were kids, and their lawyers made mistakes of miscalculating if the state would try to charge them as adults. 

“I can hire him,” Theo said. “I need an extra pair of hands.”

“No!” Andy nearly spit out his food to answer him. “Listen - Theo, you have to take me very seriously when I say this - you  _ cannot _ let him near the shop. Not even for some extra cash. Doesn’t matter how hard up he is. Just lend him money instead. Never let him get on the books.” 

“Hey,” Theo said, “he’s your brother.”

“It’s not about him!” Andy’s face was flushed, and not just from the African liquor. “You think this thing with Pop and Uncle Eddie is dead and buried, but it’s not. They went their own separate ways, but wounds get reopened. More easily than you’d think. I don’t even know the whole story - I just know that we need to keep things the way they are, with a clear dividing line of business interests. No offense.” 

“None taken. I just don’t know about any of this stuff. I mean, it’s been mentioned, but my mom always shut any talk of it down. Even when I came on to work full time and learned about the founding.”

“It was a front for the mob, right?”

Theo put air quotes up. “‘Allegedly.’ Though I think the statute of limitations may have actually passed on that. It’s been legit since Pop took over - or so he claims, and Mom backs him up on that. But whatever he wanted to say about him and your dad, Mom always stopped him. Said she didn’t want anybody stirring anything up.”

“Exactly.” Andy pointed a fork at Theo. “Because she’s the smart one. No offense to Uncle Eddie, but we know where your brains came from. The way I understand it, the reason things got smoothed over is our moms didn’t have patience for any of this shit, especially since they were pregnant at the same time.” Andy and Theo were only a month apart in age. “They insisted that everybody exchange godparent duties to really seal the deal. They weren’t going to have any grudges last for another generation. By the time we were old enough to notice anything, there was nothing to notice. So we don’t know what happened, or how bad it was - but the point is, it was bad, and it’s in the past, and we all need to keep it that way. Okay?”

Andy rarely came down hard about anything, especially with Theo, so naturally Theo said, “Okay.”

“I appreciate the support, I really do. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that Duncan used to give you a lot of shit because you were smaller than him and he could. Sometimes, you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Probably.” Theo couldn’t even begin to deny that.

  
  


Two eventful months passed for Theo, including being outed on the family messaging channel, being named godfather to Andy’s new baby girl anyway, and having his first fight with Matt in a relationship that was getting both comfortable and serious in a scary way. Theo didn’t usually stay with someone long enough for a second fight. 

Everyone knew when Duncan was getting out, though for whatever reason, it seemed to be news to Foggy when it was discussed on Whatsapp.

“What was he in for?” he asked Theo at the end of the work day, when the shop was closed and they ate up the scraps from the lunch rush that couldn’t be repurposed. 

“Grand theft auto,” Theo said. He saw no reason to hide this from Matt or Karen. “He wasn’t the ringleader. His friend talked him into it. And he was seventeen, but he was charged as an adult.”

“That seems unduly harsh,” Matt said, “and doesn’t explain such a long sentence.”

“Because of the assault charge,” Theo said. “They ran, and he hit the cop chasing him with his elbow. The lawyer - who wasn’t a fancy Columbia grad, he was what Uncle Timmy could afford - tried to argue that it was an accident, Duncan didn’t mean to hit him, but the judge wouldn’t dismiss it. So that escalated things.” Theo shrugged. “I wasn’t there, and our parents weren’t willing to discuss it. I had to get my updates from Andy at school.”

“And no possibility of parole?”

“Um, I don’t know if it was a possibility, I just know he served out his full sentence.” 

“I don’t remember him that well,” Foggy said. “But we were at their house plenty, right?”

“He was a decade older than you,” Theo explained. “And I probably shouldn’t say this, but he called you Faggy.”

Foggy nearly choked on his corned beef. “ _ That’s _ who did that!”

“I should have stood up to him for you,” Theo said, “but he had three years on me, which was a huge deal at that age. I kind of stayed away from him.” He shook his head. “Let’s give him a fresh start. He got his GED in prison, he’s going to get out, and he’s going to probably work for Andy’s company unless he finds other work. Everyone’s rooting for him.”

“Of course,” Matt said, the skepticism hidden pretty deep under his words, but there was enough for Theo to pick up on it. “No one’s life should be ruined for a mistake they made as a minor.”

Karen had the good sense not to add anything to the discussion, and that was that. 

There was a tentative party planned at Andy’s, but not right away. Duncan had to get out and get settled in his parents’ home (which was new to him) and meet his nieces and nephew. They got him a phone and walked him through it enough that he could post on the family channel, and Andy posted a picture of him standing with his brother. And yeah, he did look much older, but Theo supposed he hadn’t bothered to picture what Duncan looked like, and just imagined him frozen as his seventeen-year-old self. He had a new appreciation for what Matt and Foggy did to protect their clients, or reduce their sentences if they were guilty.

A few days later Theo got a call, not unexpectedly, from Andy. 

“Duncan wants to go out on the town. He wants drinks and weed, and you probably have the best weed.”

“Yeah, I probably do.”

“He also wants to get laid, but I explained very carefully that I couldn’t help him with that, and that I don’t expect you to help him with that. I mean, Jo won’t kill me if I go to a titty bar, but I don’t really  _ want _ to go to a titty bar. And the ones in Manhattan are going to have the most expensive drinks anyway.”

“Um, did you tell him? About me?”

“It hasn’t come up.”

Theo swallowed. “Can you? I don’t want to come out individually to each new family member who doesn’t have a phone.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Andy didn’t sound like he was looking forward to it, but he also understood why Theo was asking. “I mean, he’s been in prison, so - “

“Prison shit is way different than shit on the outside,” Theo said. “Or so I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right about that. And look, if he’s not cool about it, I’ll tell him to be cool about it, because everyone else is, and he has to get in line. It may take him a moment, but he’ll get it. I got your back.”

“Thank you.” He was embarrassed that he had to ask. “And yeah, he can have some of my weed. You guys want sandwiches?”

“If you’re making them, hell yes we want sandwiches,” Andy said, which made Theo’s heart swell with pride. He could do something right.

That night, being who he was, Matt noticed something. “You’re nervous.”

“Andy and Duncan are coming over tomorrow. We’re going to eat and get high and go out for drinks. I haven’t seen him yet. I mean, aside from pictures.” He added, “He’s so old.”

“You’re probably still a little kid to him,” Matt said. “How old were you when he was arrested?”

“Fourteen.”

“And I presume you didn’t have facial hair.”

“No.  _ Shit _ . It’s so weird to think about. Do you remember - “ He stopped himself just in time. “I was going to ask about your mom.”

“She left when I was an infant,” Matt explained. “Dad had a picture of her in his room, and I can’t remember it. And I couldn’t compare, even if I did.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what  _ I _ look like. I know I’m not a kid, but I can’t picture my own face, except as a kid.”

“A kid with stubble?”

“I don’t know what stubble looks like, really,” Matt admitted, and he never admitted this shit. He was never angry when someone forget he was blind - very much the opposite, like he was proud to pass as sighted. “I saw people with stubble as a kid, but that was so long ago, and it wasn’t on  _ my face _ .” He put his hands around his cheeks, which were just starting to show a five o’clock shadow. He was crazy hairy. “I know what it feels like, and what it feels like not to have one. But there are things I think I can imagine and things I know I can’t imagine even if I try.”

“You basically look great whenever. You know that, right?”

“People have told me I am attractive.”

“Smug bastard,” Theo said, and kissed him.

  
  


Andy and Duncan came by, as promised, while Theo was closing up for the night. Theo was locking up in the back when he heard the jingle of the bells on the front door. He ditched his apron and gloves and walked through the door from the back, and paused, stuck on the image in front of him-- a man that he knew he should recognize more immediately than he did. Duncan had always been bigger than him, and less skinny, but that was puberty at work.

Duncan needed the moment to do the same, and give him the once over. “Fucking shit. You look like a dirty hippy.”

“Hey, this place has an A from the Health Inspector!” Theo said back. 

“You got tall.” Duncan was still taller, but he was no longer staring at a kid. 

“You got fat,” Theo replied, though it was probably a combination of fat and muscle that made Duncan big.

“Come here, you motherfucker!” Duncan opened his arms wide and Theo embraced him. Duncan slapped his back, and yeah, most of that was muscle. “I know, I look like shit. But I’ve got an excuse.”

“You don’t look like shit,” Theo assured him. “You look like you could bench me. That’s not shit.”

“I’ve had plenty of time to lift,” Duncan admitted as he released him, nudging him in the chest as he looked around. “Wow. This place hasn’t changed at all.”

“‘Ugly deli’ is our brand,” Theo said. “I think customers would be horrified if we changed anything. I mean, the backroom is serving as a law office, but they don’t see that. Unless they’re clients.”

“Everybody watched the Castle trial,” Duncan said. “If I didn’t know it was Foggy, like if they hadn’t said his name was Franklin Nelson, I wouldn’t have believed it was Foggy. We wanted Castle to fry, but we also wanted to hire him. Is that guy really blind?”

“Yes, Matt is really blind.” Theo was not offended. There was no reason to be offended on Matt’s behalf. “And until the Castle trial, I thought he was a pretty good lawyer.”

“Never let the defendant take the stand,” Duncan said with a shake of his head. “That guy had a temper. He would have been torn apart in cross - had he made it to cross.”

“Yeah, that trial’s sort of a sore spot for them, so don’t bring it up if you can manage it.”

“They here? With um, the new one?”

“Karen is their legal assistant. And I think also a PI? I’m not super sure. She was the one sitting next to Foggy at the trial.”

“Fuck, she was hot.” Duncan looked at his brother. “Can I still say that?”

Andy shrugged and looked at Theo.

“I wouldn’t say it to her face,” Theo said. “And she’s seeing someone, so don’t even think about it. Anyway, no, they’re probably meeting with clients or whatever. They’re not always here. But Foggy totally wants to see you, and Matt and Karen want to meet you, but they’re certainly not going anywhere. They barely leave the city and they come to all of the family stuff.”

“Matt’s basically family,” Andy said. “Been that way since he was Foggy’s roommate in college. Karen we’re still working on, but we’ll get her. In the meantime, who else is starving for corned beef on rye?”

They ate in the dining room and shared the remainder of Theo’s latest open bottle of whiskey. Andy and Duncan didn’t eat their sandwiches so much as inhaled them.

“I guess you must be sick of this stuff,” Duncan said, nodding to Theo’s stuffed peppers and rice. 

“Oh, Theo doesn’t eat anything that tastes good,” Andy informed him. “He’s like, on permanent Lent to atone for seeing a cow die on the supplier’s farm.”

“Going vegan was a battle of wills between teenage me and Pop,” Theo admitted. “And I won. Mom gave in pretty easily because she didn’t want to see me starve to death, so she learned to cook for me. But for a while it was potato chips and raw fruit for lunch because that’s what they had at school and I got pretty sick.”

“I remember the food was shit,” Duncan said. “So that’s why you’re a beanpole.”

“And maybe why I still have hair.”

Because Theo didn’t keep weed in the shop, they moved to his apartment, which he warned them was not very large and only had two proper chairs and an awful couch, but it did have mood lighting - that was what the Christmas lights  and the black light Matt seemed to not know about were for- appropriate to the mood. After he fed Sadie, she disappeared.

“I have seen this cat like, two times,” Andy said. “She’s basically feral.”

“Not around me,” Theo said as he got out his weed. “Okay, I don’t know what you’ve had access to, but shit has gotten pretty strong.”

“I can handle it,” Duncan said. “I’ve been high on weird shit you’ve never even heard of.” He took a deep drag on the vape pen.

“It’s not a race,” Theo said, handing it over to Andy, who took a much smaller hit. “We have the whole night. As long as we don’t get caught with like, a carton of oil cartridges, what we’re doing is basically legal.” 

“You smoke at work?”

“Naw, too much responsibility and too many sharp objects to handle. When I had an office job - that was my real stoner period. Now I just get high in my apartment and play video games and watch the same shit on Netflix over and over.” 

“Please tell me you won’t be the cool uncle who gives my kids weed,” Andy said, giggling a little. “I mean, I’m serious, don’t fuckin’ do that, you will never see your goddaughter again.”

“By the time your kids are old enough, it’ll be legal anyway. They’ll be buying it from bodegas that don’t check IDs. Everyone’s already selling the equipment.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” Andy turned to his brother. “And yeah, that’s why like every convenience store has bongs and glass pipes for ‘tobacco.’ And yeah, I’m aware of the irony of the situation, but don’t do drugs.”

Duncan snickered. “I didn’t become a junkie when I had time to do it; I’m definitely not gonna do it now. Prison junkies, they’re the worst. They always blow through their stash and end up sucking dick for more. It’s demeaning.” He added, after a beat, “No offense.”

“Aw, I’m touched,” Theo said. “And for the record, I have never sucked dick for drugs. It’s - it’s not a good thing to do, at any time. But seriously, don’t do shit beyond weed. Like shrooms are fine if you’re in a controlled situation, but the whole country’s addicted to opiods and it’s a  _ problem _ . And no one in this family can keep sending you back to rehab when cold turkey and willpower doesn’t work because it never does.”

“Just drink, I guess,” Andy said. “The Nelson family way. Or be the bigger man, and stay clean and sober.”

“You all become fuckin’ high school guidance counselors while I was inside?” 

“C’mon, Duncan.” Andy nudged him gently. “You’re out. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. We all want you to lead whatever life you want to lead - whatever makes you happy. We’re giving you annoying advice because we want you to succeed.” He turned enough that Theo could see his eyes were red. “Look at us. We’re whole again.”

“Don’t get all sentimental on me, you little shit,” Duncan said, clearly feeling the weed now. Maybe it was a little strong for him. 

They had a good amount of food, beer, and weed in them when they started a bar crawl, more to hang out than to drink. There was a lot of catching up to do - Duncan told them about prison life and how it wasn’t like on TV, Andy talked about fatherhood, and Theo was a small business owner with a lot of crazy experiences in food services, though he said that legally, he couldn’t tell the full story of what happened when he catered an event at Rand Corp, but that it involved at least one explosion and Sri Lankan gangsters. Andy definitely had the least violent life, which they blamed on him living on Long Island and generally being a pussy.

Andy and Duncan took the train most of the way home, which gave them time to sober up, but Theo made the mistake of falling asleep immediately, and woke up with a mildly nasty hangover. He didn’t expect Matt to sneak in because Matt usually didn’t, and because Theo didn’t want him to if he was  _ really _ out cold, which he definitely was. He barely had time to smoke a little to take the edge off the morning before it was time to take delivery. 

“Fuck,” he said as he squinted at the sunlight on the sidewalk. He barely acknowledged Deon approach. “Hey, Deon.”

“Hey, Boss.” Deon, thankfully, wasn’t the chipper type, but he was always on time, which Theo valued enough to give him a raise so he wasn’t at starting pay forever. “You okay?”

“I might be a little hungover,” he admitted. He handed him cash. “Can you run to Starbucks? Get something for both of us.”

“Sure thing.” 

Theo knew it was hard for Deon - he was nineteen, he lived in Harlem with his mom, and working at a butcher shop wasn’t glamorous or exciting. Theo hired him because Luke asked him to when he got out of juvie - Luke didn’t think the club was a good environment for Deon, and his mother had asked him to give him a job. Theo suspected Luke had said something to Deon, because for the first week, Deon was terrified of screwing up. Ex-cons could have a tendency to bounce, especially if they thought the work was demeaning, so Theo tried to treat him as respectfully as possible. And Deon was a vegetarian, so Theo liked him immediately. 

Theo didn’t ask him what felony he had committed even though he was legally allowed to. He just said, “As long as you didn’t rob a deli,” and Deon said he didn’t, and that was that. Deon still got his free meal at work, which was whatever either he or Theo cooked up for the vegetarian option no one ordered, and Theo occasionally sent him home with food for his mother, who was decidedly  _ not  _ vegetarian, and Deon said she appreciated it. Theo had two other people to work the register at lunch or help out in the back, but Deon was the hardest worker, the smallest complainer, and seemed to have some kind of aptitude for understanding the different cuts of meat. He was always asking for more hours, so Theo tried to give them to him. 

Theo got the store ready for delivery and did all the preliminary work to open it for business - he was the only one with a full set of keys - and Deon reappeared surprisingly quickly.

“Don’t drink the night before delivery,” Theo said as Deon handed him a half-caff with soy milk. “And don’t drink at all until you’re twenty-one. But on the off chance that you do by mistake, don’t drink the night before delivery.”

“You hit up the clubs, Boss?” Deon was only half-joking - Theo had once bragged about being in the VIP lounge at Harlem Paradise, though he had to give a thorough set of details before Deon believed him. 

“My cousins came in from Long Island,” Theo said, wishing he could smoke a little, but he never did that in front of Deon. “Duncan just got out of - uh, fuck, I should know the name of the correctional facility he was in, but I don’t. It wasn’t reachable by public transit and I’ve never owned a car.”

“How long was in for?”

“Twenty years.”

“Shit!” Deon tried not to curse a lot, but an occasional swear escaped, and Theo wasn’t exactly about to correct him for it. “What’d he do? I mean, you don’t have to tell me. It’s just a long time.”

“Tried to steal a car. Broke the window, so that’s property damage, the attempted theft, and then he decked a cop while he was trying to escape, and that was the thing that knocked him out in court. And maybe he was up for parole and maybe he wasn’t, I don’t know. I should know, he’s my cousin, but we weren’t super close. Now he’s gotta catch up on twenty years of life and technology. We tried to show him all kinds of shit on his phone, but there’s a learning curve.” He added, “I was just a kid when he went in. And he was just a kid. It’s surreal.”

“What’s he going to do now?”

“Take a little time to adjust and relax, then go work for his brother’s construction company. Probably not going to be thrilled by starting out at the bottom, but you gotta put in the time.”

“But it’s his brother. He can’t cut him a deal?”

“Andy’s a small business owner with a whole bunch of employees. He’s gotta be fair to them, make it clear that everyone gets the same treatment. You don’t want to just hire and fire. Yeah, there’s an endless cycle of guys willing to smash walls for you for cash, but it’s better to have a loyal crew you can trust. The boss has to think of these kinds of things. Andy has a business degree for a reason.” He sipped his coffee as they stepped back outside. The delivery truck was backing up. “Whereas I spent four years studying electrical engineering and all it’s good for is fixing equipment I should be replacing anyway. Oh, and don’t use the slicer until I check it. I can’t afford workman’s comp.”

The truck parked and Enrique popped out of the driver’s side. “Hey motherfucker.”

“Hey asshole,” Theo said with a smile. He pointed sideways to Deon. “You meet Deon? He’s helping me with deliveries now.”

“You turning into an old man already?” Enrique slapped him on the shoulder, then shook Deon’s hand. “Hey, Deon. You hauling Theo’s shit for him now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s a team effort,” Theo said. “The salesmen for startups gotta have their kombucha and I gotta overcharge them for it.”

“You’re only still in business because they’re all too good for Lipton’s,” Enrique said. “C’mon, Deon. I’ll show you how to let down the ramp so it hits Theo right in the face.”

Theo gave him the finger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts just after the events of the Tampa story.

Foggy didn’t end up getting a chance to properly introduce Matt to his cousin until the Easter family gathering. Theo hadn’t given it any thought at all - out of sight, out of mind - when he returned from Florida.

“Was the Castle trial, which contains the bottom moment of my professional career, played on every TV in every prison in America?” Foggy lamented. 

“He was a criminal who made a name for himself killing criminals, so yeah, pretty much,” Theo said.

“Matt, we can never go to prison,” Foggy said, looking Matt right in the face. “I was always too pretty for prison, but this would make it so much worse.  _ Matt, we can never go to prison _ .”

“Good thing you’re marrying a lawyer,” Matt replied.

Fortunately, Karen was not present for this conversation, off doing whatever she was doing outside of the office. Interviews, probably. Theo didn’t bring this up.

“So Duncan recognized you?”

“Not at first, because I’ve cut my hair. But I was standing next to Matt, so yeah, he figured it out.”

“Foggy might have been a little intimidated,” Matt said.

“The guy was stacked, Matt. I’m sure you could hear that or whatever. But he was nice about it. He said he was glad we finally have a decent lawyer in the family, because his was shit.”

“He never should have been tried as an adult,” Matt said. “But we didn’t say that. Otherwise, he seemed nice.”

“There was a fight in the backyard but he wasn’t the one who started it,” Foggy added. “I’m not sure if he was involved. It was a bunch of people.”

So, typical family gathering. 

Theo didn’t see Duncan again until the dollhouse was finished, and Andy picked him and the house up and drove to Long Island. Olivia squealed and hugged him as hard as she could and the other kids demanded to claim rooms to decorate themselves now that the rooms all had individual light switches and turning them on and off was just about the most fascinating thing. Theo also got to see Mary for the first time since the Christening, and he brought her a beanie baby, even though she didn’t really acknowledge it or know what it was. She couldn’t sit up on her own yet, but she was getting there, and sat more easily on his lap during dinner. Even though they were pros at having a newborn, Andy and Jo both looked tired, and admitted they would be happier when she was sleeping through the night, and that even though the other kids claimed that they never woke her up with their own sounds when playing, they definitely did. 

“I’ve heard five is the magic number,” Theo said. “You get to five kids, then the older ones are old enough to take care of the young ones. Five to eight is a nice number. At eight, the house is just always loud. That’s what a friend told me, anyway.”

Jo gave Andy a murderous look, and Andy looked away and said, “You know someone with eight kids?”

“Hasidic Jew. He works for a kosher caterer,” he said. The second thing was a lie, but it was for Avi’s sake. “He said if there isn’t a ninth soon, people are going to start asking if they’re having fertility issues.”

“I know you’re saying this to make me feel better, but can you just temporarily move out here and babysit?” Jo asked. “We’ll loan you a car.”

“We can’t; I gave the company car to Duncan,” Andy said. 

“Honey, you’re not helping.”

The dinner was early so Andy could drive Theo over to Uncle Timmy and Aunt Jeanie’s and visit with them. They lived twenty minutes away, in more or less the same style of house, the kind that wasn’t large or fancy but it was a mansion to them when they moved there from Manhattan, and still seemed that way to Theo, because it had a two-car garage and a big yard. The guest room was Duncan’s for the foreseeable future. Theo told them all about Florida, sans any mention of the copious amount of weed he smoked while there. The visit wasn’t long, and then Duncan drove him to the train station.

“I gotta get out of there,” he admitted the moment they were in the car. “They’ve been very nice, but they still think of me as a kid.”

“You still are their kid,” Theo said. “Some of that might not change. But you should get your own place as soon as you can afford it.”

“Andy said he’ll help me, but he’s so busy with the kids, I can’t exactly go apartment hunting with him. But he’ll lend me some money.”

“Do you like working for him?”

“It’s weird. Not bad, just weird. He’s my little brother, you know? But he said he’s gotta give me orders and I have to take ‘em in front of the guys. It’s supposed to be the other way around. It’s supposed to be my company.”

“Yeah, and I was supposed to design spaceships to go to Mars,” Theo said. “This is just how we turned out. It’s not so bad.”

“I suppose not,” Duncan said. He lit a cigarette as he drove - he had a habit. “If you wanna go back into engineering, you could build a time machine and stop me from trying to steal that car. That’d be fuckin’ great of you. Cousin of the year for sure.”

“Time travel is impossible,” Theo replied. “At least to go back. Some people think we can go forward, but not back. And back is where everyone always wants to go.”

“If you could back, what would you change?”

Theo sighed. “Not a lot. I’d be terrified of screwing something up that’s good now. But if I had to pick one thing, it would be to tell kid me that being gay was not the end of the world and that everything was going to be okay.” 

“You always knew?”

“I always knew. I denied it, but I could never made it stick. So the pressure’s on Foggy to give Mom and Pop some G-ddamn grandchildren. Or on Marci, I should say. And they’re not even married yet.”

“I know Andy told everybody that Olivia was born premature, but that was some bullshit, wasn’t it? That was why they got hitched.”

“Yeah, we were all polite and said we believed them. Because that’s what you do.” 

“Well, if you need a kid right away, I think they’ll let you take one off their hands,” Duncan said. 

“I can barely handle a cat.”

Duncan laughed, and Theo joined him. The only downer of the night was getting on the train and realizing his clothing smelled of cigarettes. 

  
  


_ Can I crash at your place?  _ Duncan texted him weeks later. It was Saturday night, and Theo was watching a movie with Matt, whose ankle was in a brace because he twisted it doing whatever fucking thing he was doing at the time. Matt never elaborated.

_ My place is really small _ , he replied.  _ Is it an emergency? _

_ Girl kicked me out, last train just left, so yeah, kinda. _

Theo groaned and looked at Matt. “Do you mind if we move to your place? Duncan needs somewhere to sleep until the morning train.”

Matt shook his head. “I should probably get up earlier tomorrow anyway. It takes me forever to get anywhere.”

“Well, that’s what you get for - saving the day, I hope.”

Matt left to get a headstart, so it was just Theo to let Duncan in and give him his spare key. “Just leave Sadie alone. She’ll probably do the same to you. And if you want to smoke, go outside.”

“Sure thing.” Duncan hugged him. “Thanks a lot.”

“You can have whatever you want from the fridge. Also, there’s probably nothing you actually want from the fridge, but there’s a diner around the corner on 10th. We’ll figure out the key situation whenever you’re back in the city.”

“It’ll be soon. I can’t stand the boonies,” Duncan said. “You’re the best.”

Despite his promises, when Theo came back the next day, the room smelled of smoke. Not like a chimney, and the window was still open enough for someone to hold their hand out, but Theo knew addictions were hard to kick. Sadie was obviously disgusted at Theo for having left her with a stranger, and avoided him until mealtime, when all was forgiven. And it was hard to be angry at anyone when he had an unusual amount of access to his boyfriend thanks to that twisted ankle. Yes, it made him anxious to see Matt injured, but he made it his personal mission to make sure Matt wasn’t bored and therefore tempted to ignore Claire’s warnings to rest his ankle, and he took it very seriously. So did Matt.

It turned out that Duncan was in the city - or at least Brooklyn - a lot. He’d mastered Tindr, and he was catching up for lost time. He had always made friends easily enough, some from work, some from bars, whatever. He probably would have asked to sleep at Theo’s more if Theo had a real couch.

“Isn’t this Mrs. Zimmerman’s old place?” Duncan said to him when he came to return the key. “I was trying to figure out why you have old lady furniture.”

“Hey, these are quality pieces.” Theo knocked on his bed stand. “Not like the IKEA shit everyone else has. And yeah, this was her place.”

“What’d you do to her to get it? Poison her soup? I mean, it’s an apartment in Manhattan. I wouldn’t blame you.” 

“Very funny.” Theo handed him a beer from the fridge. “So, senior year of college, I move back in my with parents to save money, and it doesn’t go great. We didn’t fight or anything, but you know how it is.”

“I certainly do.”

“We were really friendly with Mrs. Zimmerman. I was delivering food to her apartment for years. She was getting old and she needed help to stay independent. She had someone come during the day for a few hours, but it wasn’t enough. So my parents cut a deal with her that I would basically live on a cot in her place, cook her meals, and help her with any chores that she might need. In return, she put my name on her lease, and when she had to move to assisted living, I got the apartment. Her kids were pissed as shit, but she stuck to her guns. I think one of them lived in Europe, the other in an ashram in India, and they never visited her or took care of her, but they still expected to get the apartment. The funeral was  _ very  _ awkward, but then they went back to wherever they came from, and that was that. And my parents helped me with the rent until I got the job with Hammer. I think they were doing it because they wanted to keep me close, make sure I wouldn’t move around to be closer to work. And it worked.”

“And you inherited the shop.”

“That’s recent. I was just salaried for a while. It was only after Pop was diagnosed with arthritis that I started taking over jobs he used to insist on doing himself, and at that point, the writing was on the wall for him. You can’t slice meat if you can’t hold the blade steady.”

“You need any help in the shop?”

Ah, there it was. The question Theo was warned about, but it didn’t seem so dangerous now. “Why? You don’t like construction? Because there’s real money in that. There are months when I’m barely breaking even.”

“It’s complicated,” Duncan admitted. “And I don’t make that real money. I’m just a worker bee, tearing down old walls and putting new ones in. It’s not very interesting.”

“Hey, it’s the family business. You’re not gonna stay at the bottom very long. And at least you get some air.”

“You want to trade places?”

“Man, I am always protein deficient. My bones are probably brittle as hell.” 

Duncan turned up at other times. He was going into the city a lot, that was all Theo knew. Andy even texted Theo once to ask if he’d seen Duncan, or if Duncan had told him his plans, which Duncan had not.

“Yeah, I’m late sometimes,” Duncan said next time Theo saw him. He swung by the shop sometimes on Saturdays to get a free meal - which Theo was more than happy to give him, in keeping with the family policy - before heading to clubs or a date or whatever. “What’s he going to do, fire me?”

Theo couldn’t respond to that; he had pulled his fair share of showing up drunk, hungover, or high to work and getting away with it because Pop was his boss. 

“Why do you have yak meat on the menu?”

“Because someone keeps ordering it, and he paid for classes so I could learn how to cook it for him,” Theo said. It was a recent addition to the official board, just above the vegetarian options no one bought. 

“What does it taste like? Do you know?”

“I know it’s hard to cook right. You need to flavor it and pay a lot more attention to it than you do with regular beef. The cuts are a little different.” 

“But you’ve never been tempted?”

Theo shrugged. “It’s still an animal. Do you want to try it? It’s best fried in dough, but I have it all ground up and prepared, so it won’t take long.”

“Yeah, fuck, give me some yak.” Duncan took a soda from the fridge. “Where’s your booze?”

“First of all, I’m not licensed to sell. Second, I have to hide it because people keep stealing it.” He pulled the Jameson out from behind the counter, where it wedged in between industrial cans of shredded tomato. “Not to name names.”

“Uncle Eddie tell you the story with Granddad’s booze?”

“Yeah. We’ve always been a bunch of drunks.” He poured a glass for Duncan and one for himself. “Not that that should come as any surprise.”

“Liquor in the city has gotten crazy expensive. How am I supposed to buy women drinks?”

“You only have to buy one,” Theo said as he got out the flying pan. “Only sketchy people keep them coming. Then you start suspecting they’re just trying to get you drunk and it’s never for good reasons.” 

“It’s really complicated.”

It occurred to Theo that Duncan had not only missed a massive shift in the culture climate, but he never had any practical experience since he was in high school when he went to prison. “Look, it’s not super complicated. If you like someone, be polite to them, listen to what they have to say, and don’t take rejection personally. Move on to the next person. Sometimes people just want someone to listen to them about whatever’s going on in their lives. And if doesn’t turn into anything, you did them a favor, letting them unload. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“Whatever. You’re not a balding construction worker who just got out of prison.”

“Yeah, instead I was a skinny guy who sweated when he got super nervous, which was  _ always _ , and I worked the register at a butcher shop. People were throwing themselves at my feet. We all have our struggles. Just be nice, and you’ll be fine. Nice is hard to come by these days. And stop it with the Axe body spray. No one actually likes it. It’s just well-marketed.”

“Fuck you.”

Theo put the oiled-up pan on the flames. “Right back at ya. You want this spicy or not?”

  
  


It wasn’t too long before Andy showed up on his doorstep. The shop was always a place where family could wander in and out, and often did, but it was more distressing when Theo was so busy, which seemed to be always. He was actually looking forward to his parents coming back for the summer. They offered to help out, and even though he had turned them down originally, he definitely wouldn’t now. 

“Sorry I didn’t text,” Andy said. “Are you busy?”

“Come back in an hour. And I don’t have the whole evening.”

“What, you have a date?”

“Fuck you.” Yes. Sort of. What he and Matt did, even if it was eating dinner together, weren’t really dates. 

“Still the same guy, then?”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Fortunately there were no customers to hear him. “Come by my apartment at like, 6:30?”

Andy showed up at 6:25. “Hey. Sorry, again. You can kick me out if you want to.”

“If I was busy I would have told you I was busy.” And it sounded like Andy really wanted to talk. “You eat?”

“Giant lunch. For the stress I’m getting for this contract, I was gonna get my money’s worth out of an expensed meal. But I could smoke.” Andy did occasionally smoke cigarettes but he didn’t mean cigarettes. 

“Help yourself.” Theo kept his paraphernalia in a plastic bin because he didn’t want anyone going through his drawers and closet looking for weed and seeing something they couldn’t unsee. There was very little actual drugs, just a few oil cartridges and some of his old pipes from when he thought it was a good idea to spend a lot of money on artistic pipes. “But take it easy.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” Theo said, and abandoned his current (and awful) new attempt at a banana shake with protein powder to take a puff. “So. Here to complain about Duncan?”

Andy coughed up about half of his particularly-long drag. “How did you know?”

“Because if it was a real emergency, like something medical, you would have called. And what else do you have going on in your life?”

“I have things!” He looked over at the bag on the floor. “Who goes to Fogwell’s?”

“Hey! I did not invite you over to play detective.”

“Fuck, it isn’t Matt, is it?”

“ _ On my G-d. _ ” Theo buried his head in his hands.

“Shit, it is Matt?” Andy got right up out of his chair. “Theo, what are you doing? Matt’s like, Foggy’s brother. He’s like your brother!”

“I know, I know.”

“Fuuuuck. Does Foggy know?”

“Of course Foggy knows!” Theo said. “I had to tell Foggy or Matt wouldn’t commit. That’s why I came out to him. And he convinced me to tell Mom and Pop and that’s how this whole thing happened! I’d probably still be in the closet if Matt hadn’t - “ Well, it was better not to say what Matt had done to convince him. “Fuck, you cannot tell _ anyone _ .  _ Anyone _ , Andy!”

But Andy was just laughing in his face. 

“Not even Jo! I mean it, you motherfucker! This relationship will not stand up to the usual bullshit scrutiny of the family channel! Which Matt can’t even read because the accessibility options are terrible!”

Andy nearly fell over he was laughing so hard.

“I will put you in the ground, man! Daredevil doesn’t kill people but I know lots of other superheros and they like me! I’ll get one of them to do it!”

“Oh my G-d, this is the best,” Andy said. “Of course I won’t tell. Oh, this is the best secret you’ve ever told me!”

“Shit.” Theo took the vape pen for himself. He was getting very high tonight. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Andy said as he tried to collect himself. “I’m sure it’s not funny to you. But it’s really funny to me. I didn’t even know Matt was gay.”

“Bi. Matt is bi.”

“Whatever, I know that’s technically different, but the point is, I didn’t know he was into dudes. Or that you seduced him to the dark side.” He giggled. “Oh man. This is seriously the best thing I’ve heard all month and thank you, because it’s been a horrible month. Thank you, Theo.” He grabbed Theo and hugged him, whether Theo wanted it or not. “You’re the best.” After that, he plopped down on Theo’s bed like he owed the place. “I knew you would cheer me up.”

“No follow-up questions.”

“Okay, okay. I will respect your privacy. I have  _ so many questions _ but I will not ask them.”

“Are they all blind stuff?”

“Only some of them are blind stuff. The rest are things I would probably regret knowing. Okay.” He wiped his face. “I will get my shit together and not tell anyone and not ask you anything about it even though I really want to. Damn.”

“Well, I’m glad I could make your month.”

“I really needed that, I did. Thank you.” He smiled. “I did come to complain about shit with Duncan but now I don’t want to spoil the mood.”

“I’m happy to change topics. This about him being late? ‘Cuz he’s here like, all the time.”

“When he went to prison, we were still living here. We hadn’t moved out to the middle of nowhere yet. So this is still home in his head, I think. Can’t blame him for that,” Andy said. “He’s had it rough, and I’m trying to cut him all the breaks I can. But he’s really undermining my authority - showing up late, cursing me out, drinking on the job. And construction people are tough. A lot of them are ex-cons, or soon-to-be-cons. I got one guy who doesn’t even speak he’s so messed up. He just breaks down walls all day. So I have to work to keep their respect without being mean or crooked, and I’m not a very intimidating guy.” He shook his head. “I could move him to another site, but he’ll just pull the same shit, and then the supervisor will yell at me. And everyone will know why I did it.”

Theo was sympathetic. “You talk to your dad?”

“I can’t go running to Pop. He trusted me with his business that he started from the ground up, yadda yadda yadda. I’m supposed to have control over it. Would you like it if you had someone telling you how to do your job? I can’t give him an opening.”

“I am a little scared of what Pop will say when they get back,” Theo admitted. “Or Mom what will say, since Pop was never much of a businessman. But I haven’t changed anything. I just know that they had concerns about me running the shop by myself. They asked Foggy to come help me when he was still working at that other firm, the fancy one.”

“What the fuck would Foggy do at the shop?”

“Exactly. It wasn’t exactly a huge vote of confidence. But then there was his campaign and some financial stuff and they got their chance to make a clean break and they took it. And things have been okay so far.” He passed the pen back to Andy. “Duncan’s been making noises about working in the shop.”

“ _ Fuck _ , no, you cannot let him do that.”

“I know, I know. But it would help you.”

“I can handle Duncan. I can bitch about him, but he’s still my brother, and he’s in my backyard, and damn, we cannot have this thing with the shop again. Not for another generation.”

“It’s just a place to cut up meat!”

“It’s the family heritage and you know it. It caused a huge feud and it took years to fix. So don’t undo that hard work. We’ve all got enough on our plate.”

Theo said nothing. He didn’t want to think of a butcher shop as some magical place passed down generation upon generation - especially since it was opened in 1957 to be a front for the Italian mob; it had never done particularly well or expanded; and Theo didn’t even eat the things he sold there. But Brett’s father had died for it. And he’d grown up there. He didn’t want to work anywhere else, even though he knew he would be alone when Nelson, Murdock, and Page’s office deal closed and the renovations were done. He couldn’t go crawling back to tech companies, with his massively outdated education, and end up leaving for the same reasons he did before. The shop was his life. It was a lot of his identity. 

Andy was trying to save that.

Theo gave in. “Yeah, okay. I understand.” He added, “Thanks.”

“Let me deal with Duncan. You’ve got your own shit,” Andy said. “You got any snacks that don’t suck?”

“So many.”

  
  


When Andy was gone, Matt came over, completely understanding Theo’s family obligations. He even brought vegan pizza. Theo was still a little baked, but he managed to relay the conversation, even though he supposed he shouldn’t. Between the weed and Matt, his filters were down.

“The shop was a front?”

“I don’t think anything really illegal happened there. Just meetings. They needed somewhere to meet.” Theo rubbed his eyes. “So, it’s the fifties, and the mafia’s big in New York. Not the Kitchen Irish, even though there were those, but our branch of the family isn’t tied to them. I mean the Italians. But it’s not like the movies. They would hire people who weren’t Italian. So my granddad, who was the third son and not very good in school, ended up as like, a low level guy. I think he drove a car around for them or something. But he was friends with the son of this big boss because they went to Catholic school and made Communion together. And it comes up that they need a new place to meet, somewhere the cops won’t suspect, to coordinate their activities in the city or whatever. So this rising boss says, ‘Hey, I know this Irish guy, no one will suspect an Irish guy works for us.’ And they gave him the cash to open a shop. One of the few things granddad knew how to do was kill chickens because his grandmother taught him when he was a kid so he opened a butcher shop, and in the front everything was above board, and in the back they had their meetings or hid from the law or whatever they needed to do. In the 70’s, everyone got raided, everyone went to jail under RICO act, but Grandad, he’s got clean books. He wasn’t financially connected to them after the startup cash, and that was real cash. Like in bills. He even went out of his way not to overhear anything. So the cops had nothing on him, and he was spared.”

Matt nodded. “Foggy know this?”

“I don’t know. Pop didn’t tell me until I started working there full time. Told me to swear not to tell anyone, though I supposed if we wanted to, we could put some fake bullet holes in the wall and turn it into a tourist trap. The only reason anyone eats at Spark’s is because some Gambino guy named Bilotti was assassinated there. We’d probably be featured on some web series. But I don’t need that kind of foot traffic. Tourists don’t make big orders.”

“And Uncle Timmy was supposed to get the shop?”

“Yeah. But he did something, and he got passed over, so he started his construction business. So this was a rivalry specific to our parents and granddad. Granddad’s brothers, the other Nelsons, they’re not involved. And Mom’s family’s obviously not involved. It was a very specific feud.”

Matt ate his gooey vegan pizza with a fork - because it was mostly vegetables cooked in cashew cheese, but it was still embarrassing. Or, Matt didn’t think it was, but it definitely was. “The mob paid my dad to throw fights. That was part of why his record wasn’t so great. Part, but not all of it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“He was a single dad with bills to pay. And after my accident, there were lots of medical bills. We settled with the company that owned the chemical truck, but it wasn’t enough. So when he realized he would get paid better to lose than to win, he accepted that. For a while. Until the fight he didn’t throw when he was supposed to, because he wanted to impress me.” He looked down, as much as Matt ever ‘looked’ anywhere. “And they killed him for it.”

“Fucking shit, Matt. I’m sorry.” Theo wanted to hug him and never let go, but they were eating pizza at his tiny table. 

“I think he was trying to do the right thing, and he was doing his best, but he wasn’t sure what the right thing was. Same thing with my mom. I didn’t understand it as a kid, but the older I get, the more I see how being an adult means making a lot of hard decisions that affect people you love. You always want to do the right thing, and you know if you screw up, someone might die.” He grinned just a little, his distinctly Daredevil grin. “Or maybe that’s more specific to me. And I worry constantly about getting it right. I don’t think I’ve always done that, and some people have never forgiven me for it. So I’m trying to understand. That’s why I’m still talking to my mom.”

Before, Matt had mostly called her ‘Sister Maggie’ or even just ‘Maggie.’ The consistent use of her biological connection to him was a recent change that had not escaped Theo’s notice. 

“I think it’s really good that you visit her,” Theo said. “Not that I have any right to an opinion. But I know family can be really hard sometimes. My parents were frustrated with Foggy when he got that swanky job at HBC, because we saw so much less of him, and they felt like they needed his help, even though it would have interfered with all of the success that he totally deserved. But they very rarely said anything to him about it, I think because they thought he would avoid them if they did.”

“Foggy would never abandon you guys. He won’t even abandon me and he probably  _ should _ .”

“I came down hard on him about the Fisk thing. It was my fuck-up but he was going to pay for it. I laid into him anyway. Said it was all his fault because he went after Fisk in court and then in public. Which was, you know, somewhat true. And who doesn’t make a few strategic lies on a bank loan? All the feds ever care about is tax evasion, and we weren’t doing that. I even did research on it. But it was still my call, and I expected him to bail me out of it because he was family. And he did, but only because you got to Fisk.” Theo sighed. “I just took it for granted that if Foggy had a chance, he would save us, because that’s what family does.”

“That’s what Fisk figured out,” Matt said. “He always found people’s pressure points. Foggy’s was his family. If I had any family that Fisk knew about, I’m sure he would have gone after them, too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Fisk ruined a lot of lives. He made people do things they didn’t want to do. It’s why he’s behind bars.”

“Foggy would have made a great DA.”

“He would have hated it,” Matt insisted. “The politics of it, yes. He would sailed right through the speech-making and the grandstanding. But one of the reason we went into business together was because we both believed in protecting the little guy. The DA is the prosecution, not the defense.”

“Then who’s gonna make sure the criminal gets his due, if you guys do such a good job all the time?”

Without hesitation, Matt answered, “Daredevil.”

“Matt, I don’t want to criticize you, but you’re a complicated guy.”

“You’re not the first person to notice,” Matt said. “Look, it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I really think you should tell Foggy all of this.”

“The Fisk stuff? Uh, no, I’d really rather not bring that up again.”

“No, the family history with the shop. He grew up there, too. Andy and Duncan are his cousins, too. If you want someone to talk to about this, he’s definitely the guy.”

“I don’t want to drag Foggy into this.”

“This is his family. He’s already involved. I don’t mean to intrude, but sometimes people talk about Foggy like he moved to another planet. He didn’t. He just changed boroughs and got a new wardrobe. He’s still your brother, he’s still a Nelson, and he still works in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m sure he would  _ want _ to be involved, if only to support you. If you’ve told me, you should definitely tell Foggy.”

“Here we go again.”

“And look how well it worked out last time,” Matt said, and damn it, he was right.

  
  


This time around, Theo carefully explained that he wanted to talk to Foggy and it was  _ not _ serious, and  _ not _ an emergency, and no one was dying or arrested or being targeted by a supervillain. 

“I’d stand by your fake bullet hole story,” Foggy said after Theo was through pretty much everything he knew about the history of the shop, and where the family stood with that. “I bet we could put them in with a hammer.”

“Stop trying to make this place trendy.”

“I’m just trying to make it more financially viable,” Foggy said. “You keep telling me it’s a cutthroat business.”

They were sitting in the back. The shop was closed for the night, the lights turned down, and Matt and Karen were long gone. Foggy almost never turned down booze, even Theo’s cheap shit.

“I figured there was a little illegal activity here at some point,” Foggy admitted, “but if we were a secret mob family, we’d at least be richer.”

“And have more relatives in jail. I think there’s only, like, two right now. For low-level stuff.” They were distant cousins, too. Family from their grandfather’s brother’s side. 

“I take it that you trust Andy’s judgment, but have you talked to Pop about all this? Or Mom? Mom’s gotta know what went down, even if it was before her time.”

“I only remember Pop refusing to talk about it when he told me the whole story as an adult,” Theo said. “And specifically telling me not to bring it up with Uncle Timmy or with Grandad.”

Foggy took a drink. “Wait, Pop told you all of this when you were adult?”

“Yeah, when I started working here for real.”

“And you just said Grandad was alive back then.”

“I think he might be alive now. I’m not sure.”

Foggy was understandably flabbergasted. “How can you not be sure? Do we have a living grandfather we’ve never met? And he’s  _ around? _ ”

“I’ve met him. Or, he met me when I was a baby. He was gone before you came along, though.”

“Gone? But he’s alive?”

“Uh, yeah.” Theo tried to remember. “He’s ... I think he lives upstate. But I’m not totally sure. But I feel like someone would have told me if he died. He must have a plot, right? There would have been a funeral here?”

“Back up, back up. Why do I not know my own grandfather? And why are you so casual about me not knowing my own grandfather? I’m planning a wedding! I need to invite him!”

“Oh, that might be bad.” Theo sat back, glass in hand. “After Grandma died, he cut us all off. The whole family. He had a breakdown or something. Took off, told us not to contact him - it was a whole thing. Or so I’ve been told.”

“And that’s not the more interesting story? That we’re here talking about a fight over a shop and the guy who founded the shop and oversaw the fight is still alive? Theo, do you not see how weird this all is?”

Theo shrugged. “I guess - it’s the way I grew up. Not talking about him or where he went. I haven’t thought about him in years because no one’s mentioned him in years.”

Foggy slapped his palm on the table. “Then this is my quest. I am going to find him and find out if he’s even still alive and invite him to my wedding. If he wants to go. This is so crazy!” He finished his drink and stood up. “I knew we had at least one exciting secret!”

“Uh, be careful. If he doesn’t want to be found, leave him alone, okay? I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“Of course. What do you take me for?”


	3. Chapter 3

Foggy found him, because of course he did. It turned out their mom had his mailing address and landline for emergencies. She recommended that they not call ahead if they actually wanted to see him, and said they might get refused at the door, but she didn’t know, because she hadn’t spoken to him in thirty years. 

The address was googled, and it corresponded to a hippie town and artist colony in rural New York. There were advertisements for meditation retreats in the area and a lot of people selling hand-blown glassware. It was three hours north of the city.

“Karen’s lending me her car,” Foggy said, completely steamrolling over any objections Theo might have had. “We’re doing this.”

“Maybe we should call first. Maybe he doesn’t live there anymore. Maybe he’s dead.”

Foggy slapped his shoulder. “When have we ever taken a road trip together?”

“We’ve never had a car.” They had taken vacations with their parents as kids, in a borrowed minivan, but this was different. 

“This is going to be so exciting!” Foggy said. “I’ll get the snacks.”

“No, gross. You get your snacks, I’ll bring my own.”

“And I’m gonna make a mixtape! I mean, it’s gonna be a CD, but it’ll be a mixtape! I’ve never made a road trip mixtape before!”

Foggy was too enthusiastic about this - as he often was, one of his more endearing and most exhausting character traits. As usual, Theo just let him run his own energy down in the planning of it, preparing for it to end in disaster considering how many variables there were.

Sunday was Theo’s only day off so it was the day they picked. Karen dropped the car off. “Bring it back in one piece or I’ll send Frank after you,” she said to Theo, “even though I don’t technically need him to do it. It would just be faster.”

Foggy, who had previously taken the news that Karen was involved with and actually living with Frank Castle in some amount of stride after the initial shock, wanted to gossip about that, but as Theo knew even less about Frank than he did about Karen, this wasn’t a fertile topic of conversation.

Just as they had as kids, they argued over music choices, eventually deciding that the driver chose, then argued about who was driving what stretches of it. Theo had grown up with grunge, and Foggy listened to R&B and some hardcore rap because he was, as Theo called, him “a total poseur.” 

“Whatever. Luke didn’t have a problem with my music choices.”

“Luke is a nice guy to  _ everyone _ ,” Theo pointed out. “He keeps his cool around people who’ve shot him a bunch of times. You don’t get points for that.”

They did not tell their family - aside from their mom - where they were going or when. The only people who knew where Karen and Matt, both of whom had no reason to join them. And Matt got carsick.

“The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, defeated by vehicular motion,” Foggy said. “Imagine him at Six Flags.”

“I’ve seen Matt throw up enough times, thank you very much.”

Foggy used the time to complain about the wedding industrial complex that was consuming his life. He thought he would have less of a role, since Marci’s parents were, via agreement with both of their families, paying for it so they could have the wedding they wanted (and could afford), and Foggy wisely deferred to Marci on most things because he was a smart guy, but there were decisions to be made and they needed help. And they hadn’t even sent out the save-the-date cards yet.

“We went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and they said on average it takes five hours to set up a registry.  _ Five hours _ ,” Foggy lamented. “I’m not sure Marci wants all this so much as it is expected.”

“Has she said anything against it?”

“Just that it’s taking up too much of her time. She’s trying to make partner. She’s busy.”

Theo shrugged. “There’s still the shop. But the fire marshal has mandated that we can only seat 30, so there’s gotta be some harsh cuts.”

“I need to make a registry with a custom item called ‘wedding’ for $40,000 and send the link to Danny. And it’s not going to be $40,000. I just feel bad about posting the real number.”

“Fuck, that’s a mortgage.”

“Yeah, but Marci’s parents aren’t getting us a mortgage. They’re getting us a wedding.”

“If you do it in Boro Park, I can get you a deal on a hall and a kosher caterer. But we’ll all have to pretend to be super religious or the hall will get some criticism and might lose their kosher certification.” 

“I’ve learned that if there’s anything Jews don’t like, it’s other Jews who are slightly more or slightly less religious than them. They take it as a personal affront.” 

“You chose these in-laws.”

“I chose Marci,” Foggy countered. “I get her crazy family and she gets my crazy family. I think it’s a fair trade.”

“At least you’re being practical about it.”

Somehow, they managed to kill three hours on the road, then another half hour trying to find the house. The whole area was heavily wooded, with signs for various retreat homes, artist centers, and a bunch of centers that promised healing involving crystals. The houses were old, and varied from traditional farmland tract homes to eclectic. The signage was bad and Google Maps was surprisingly misleading, so they ended up stopping for directions before finding what they hoped was the right road.

The house attached to the address they were looking for had once been a normal American ranch home, but now the lawn and porch were decorated with dozens of pinwheels made of scrap materials, as well as some incomprehensible sculptures (also from trash, but nice trash) and a rock path leading to the front door where no two rocks matched. 

Theo looked at Foggy skeptically. “We doing this?”

“How is that even a question?”

“Just build me up a little here.”

“Whatever we find, it’s gonna be fine. It’s an adventure,” Foggy said as they got out of the car. “And if things go south, it’s not like I haven’t been shot before.”

“Wow, you’re a master at this,” Theo said. “Okay, let’s do it.”

When they rang the doorbell - which signalled their presence with a serious of loud, musical chimes - they had no idea if anyone would answer, or even if that person would be their grandfather. They had no current physical description, but they figured it wasn’t the woman who came to the door. She was much closer to their age. She opened the main door, but left the screen door closed. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, um, we’re looking for Archibald Nelson.”

She gave them a once-over. “Can I ask why?”

“We’re his grandsons,” Foggy said eagerly. “I’m Franklin, and this is Theodore. He was there when he was born.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know quite what to do with that information. “I’ll see if he wants to talk to you. Do you mind waiting?”

It was a nice day, especially in the shade of the porch, so they both agreed. 

“Do you think that’s, like, an aunt we don’t know about?” Foggy whispered.

“No idea. Don’t bring it up.”

After a few minutes, another, older man came to the door. His hair was grey and neatly combed. He was wearing heavy but stylish glasses. “Hello. I’m David. Devorah is my daughter. She helps out around the house. We’re getting old.” He opened the screen door. “Archie’s agreed to see you, provided you aren’t here with a lot of accusations or are going to try to guilt him into coming back.”

“Oh no,” Foggy insisted. “Heck, I didn’t even know he was alive until last week. I just want to meet my grandad.”

David nodded gently and let them in. The decor of the spacious living room was a combination of traditional New England furnishings and modern hippie additions, including art on the wall and vases on the shelves that they either made themselves or someone made for them. The tea they were served by Devorah was in mugs that had the look of the handmade. It wasn’t completely foreign, but it was definitely unlike the Nelson New York style of middle class living.

There was no time for polite conversation as a very old man emerged from the kitchen. He was wearing linen clothing that also looked handmade, like many of the items in the arty thrift shop where they stopped for directions. He needed a cane to walk and his hair was entirely white, and David hovered around him protectively without actually getting in his way.

“So,” he said, peering at them through weak eyes. He didn’t wear glasses. “Which one is which?”

“Uh, I’m Theo,” Theo said. “This is my brother Foggy.”

“And you’re Eddie’s kids?”

They nodded.

Their grandfather tapped his cane on the ground. It wasn’t an ordinary cane either. Someone had taken a tree branch and carved something from it, dying parts of it bright colors. “You came all this way, so I suppose I should welcome you. I’m your grandfather, obviously. And this,” he gestured to his companion, “is my husband David.”

After a beat, Foggy said, “Oh my G-d! That is amazing!”

After watching Foggy’s reaction, Grandad looked directly at Theo. Their eyes met, and Theo could see the years in them, especially in the way he squinted. Was he waiting for disapproval? Approval? Was he weighing if he wanted a relationship with this errant kid from a family he’d turned his back on thirty years before?

Theo didn’t know. He burst into tears anyway.

He didn’t know why he had this reaction. He went from tearing up to the feeling of his throat closing in seconds. He couldn’t see properly anymore, so the next thing he knew was his grandfather embracing him, letting Theo put his head into that soft hand-spun linen as his body was wracked with uncontrolled sobs. 

“I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out. “I - I don’t know why I’m crying.”

But Grandad just patted his shoulder and said, “Let it out.”

Foggy and David must have been talking, maybe about him, maybe awkwardly steering the conversation around him, but Theo couldn’t focus on their voices. He knew he was getting an embarrassing amount of tears and snot on his grandfather’s clothing. He knew that his whole body was filled with tension that had been there for so long he had forgotten about it, and now he felt it all and he wanted to get it all out of him even though he thought he never would, no matter how long he cried. It was like a long-awaited allergic reaction to what was inside of him all these years. He thought about his first kiss with the cutest guy in school, who then hit him really hard and called him gay and ran off. He thought about trying, and failing, to develop a relationship with a girl in college. He thought about all of those bars where he was so stressed about seeing someone he knew, and crafting profiles on websites and apps that revealed enough without saying any specifics about him. There was Ward, whom maybe he could have loved harder, and maybe would have gotten clean if he’d stayed, but seemed like such a bad fit now. And the craziness that was Matt, with the tremendous highs and occasional lows that he could never discuss with anyone because they involved illegal activity, and because he didn’t want to think about Matt’s possible death, but knew it hovered in the background of everything every time he went out. 

And Grandad just put up with this mostly-silent assault of tears and eventually gave him tissues and made him sit down and drink some tea, but never told him to collect himself. By the end of it Theo was exhausted and thoroughly slumped into the overstuffed couch. Devorah gave him some Tylenol without being asked for a post-cry headache that was coming on. 

“I’m sorry,” Theo said one more time as Grandad took a seat on the recliner, which was a traditional mechanized Lay-Z-Boy, just like Uncle Timmy’s. “This isn’t what I came here to do.”

“What did you come here to do?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was mostly Foggy’s idea. Because he’d never met you. And I realized I didn’t know  _ why _ I didn’t know you. I just accepted that you were gone and that was that.” He swallowed his pills with the tea. “I’m gay. I just came out to the family. Foggy, then my parents, then everybody else found out.”

“How did it go?”

“Good. Much better than I thought it would. I mean, it’s 2019, right? So now I feel guilty about being so scared all these years and lying to them because I was scared. People tell me I could have told them and they would have been fine with it, but I don’t know how true that is. It just makes me feel stupid for thinking otherwise.”

His grandad nodded. His granddad understood.

“Do you want some food?” David said, coming over from the kitchen, where he and Foggy had been chatting in the interim. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re vegetarian.”

“Oh my G-d!” Because of course, Foggy had no idea other than he could react. “Theo, Grandad is like your spirit animal! Um, no offense, Grandad. You’re not an animal.”

“I’m vegan,” Theo explained.

“You’ll have to allow us our butter,” Grandad said, clearly amused by Foggy’s natural ebullience. “And honey, if you don’t eat that. Though I think our honey is from an organic bee farm that doesn’t use sprays.” 

“It is,” David confirmed. “Theo, are you allergic to anything? Because we can definitely make you something. We just need to know about allergies.”

“No allergies that I’m aware of.”

“My doctor said I need lots of calcium and it’s not as good to get it from supplements,” Grandad said. “But at this point, I don’t know how much difference it’s going to make. The only reason I’m alive is because of David. And Devorah! We appreciate you. We really do.”

David was an older man, but clearly not pushing ninety like Grandad. “It takes a village,” he said gently. 

They sat down around a kitchen table made from the ring of a tree for lunch. Theo was in a post-cry fog, so Foggy did most of the talking, filling them in on their lives - his career as a lawyer, Theo’s new ownership of the shop, their parent’s retirement, and some of the wider family details of the move to Long Island and how many kids everyone had and where they all were. To Foggy’s relief, Grandad and David had watched none of the Castle trial and had only read of it in passing because they still got the New York Times. They never noticed the names of the lawyers or made the family connection.

“We didn’t have television for the longest time,” Grandad said. “Then we ended up watching so much on the computer that David said, ‘Let’s get a smart TV already. We’ll have a bigger screen.’ But we don’t have any cable or local stations.”

“We broke down and got Roku,” David confessed. “And we have a DVD player. But no news channels. If it’s important, we watch it online or go over to a friend’s place.”

“We go to an Oscar party,” Grandad said. “Even though we haven’t seen most of the movies. It’s just a fun time.”

“What my father and uncle are trying to say is that they are not completely off the grid,” Devorah said, apparently considering Grandad some kind of uncle. “They tried it and they couldn’t hack it.”

“We could have!” Grandad insisted.

“You couldn’t get by without your crossword puzzles and Dad needed his NPR,” she chided. She clearly had a good relationship with him. She turned to Theo and Foggy. “He gets the New Yorker, too. He claims he reads all of the articles but no one reads _ all _ of the articles.”

“I do!” Grandad protested. “Even the theater reviews. I don’t even know why. Habit, I guess.”

It turned out that even though they were both very retired (it was unclear what Devorah did, though she had a job of some kind), Grandad sold some of the decorative pinwheels on Etsy. He used to work on the garden that provided a lot of their vegetables, but in recent years, David had more or less taken over it. Over the years they’d had dogs, cats, and chickens that they raised for their eggs. 

It all sounded very wonderful, but Grandad knew why they were here, and he eventually got to the point. “So I suppose you want to know what happened with me and the family.”

“You don’t have to tell us,” Foggy said. “But we would like to know whatever you want to share.”

“Ed gave you his version,” their grandfather said. “Which was ... nice. It might be the version he knows. I’m not sure what the official party line was in the end. But it’s nice to know my name wasn’t smeared.” He smiled grimly and patted his husband on the back of the hand. “Obviously, to get us here, there were some problems. I would say that my exile from the family was a mutual decision made between me and my siblings.”

“That’s an extremely polite way of putting it,” David said.

“Hush,” Grandad said. “Obviously, being gay in the past was different. It was illegal. And even after it wasn’t illegal, I could have lost everything - my job, my apartment, my marriage, rights to see my children. So I did what everyone else did, and I got married, and when I had an opportunity to start my own business - even if it was with mob money - I did. And our marriage wasn’t completely terrible. Eleanor and I raised two children. We made enough money to be comfortable. And I didn’t get arrested with all of my old friends, which was something. But during this time, I was going to bars and bathhouses and all of that. I don’t know when she found out, but she eventually told me she found out, but we decided not to end the marriage, because that wouldn’t benefit anyone, even though our children were almost grown by that point. It wasn’t until she died that things came apart.

“I thought she was the only one who knew. It turns out my sister knew, G-d knows how she found out, but Eleanor had sworn her to secrecy. When Eleanor died, Jean decided that that was the end of that, and she got together with my brothers and they basically said I was a degenerate and they wanted me out of their lives. And this is the 80’s, so you would think things are getting better, but they’re not. They’re all worried I’ll give everyone AIDS, even though I didn’t have AIDS and no amount of explaining could convince them of that. And even though our marriage was a lie, I was torn up by Eleanor’s death, so when they said they would tell Ed and Tim if I didn’t get lost, I got lost. And I was fine with it. As fine as I could be, really.”

“Which was not fine,” David added gently.

“No, it was not,” Grandad admitted. “I was in a psych ward. Then I went to reparative therapy retreat. I wandered out of that - literally, wandered, as in I had a breakdown and just wandered away in the middle of the night and some nice couple found me and didn’t bring me back. I joined a cult. All of those groups from the 70’s, a lot of them were still operating up here, so I was in a commune for a while. Just as far away as I could get from my old life in every way. And financially, a commune was a good thing to be in, because I didn’t have any money. A lot of aging hippies were sympathetic when I would actually tell them my story, which I generally tried to avoid doing. I even went by the name Starburst Sunshower for a little while. And then I met David.”

“I went through a similar thing,” David said. “Though not to scale. I had a messy divorce from my wife. I still had some assets, and I was bouncing around different communes, living off that. I also still had some family connections. I wasn’t entitled to any custody but my kids were adults. Eventually, they were all speaking to me again. But at that time I only had Devorah picking up her phone for me, and one day I went to buy produce from a stand and I saw Archie standing there, and I thought, who’s putting that sweet man in the hot sun for the day just to sell some tomatoes?”

“But they were good tomatoes.”

“They were  _ very _ good tomatoes,” David assured him. “And I didn’t know a damn thing about farming but I sure pretended to for as long as I could.”

“They’re not here to listen to our sappy love story,” Grandad said, even though they sort of were. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Foggy said. He was pitching in because Theo was still halfway in a state of shock. “So when did you get married?”

“Oh, we’ve been married for years - we just weren’t  _ officially  _ married until we filed the paperwork in 2012,” Grandad said. “We didn’t stay up all night so we could get married at the stroke of midnight in 2011 like the young people did. That seemed silly. Wedon’t even make it to the ball dropping on New Year’s.”

“Do you have pictures? Can we share them?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Grandad said. “Let me think about it first. There are some things I don’t want to revisit.”

“Of course,” Theo said. “We won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want them to know. Even Mom and Pop. Pop seemed kind of neutral on the whole idea, honestly.”

“If he thinks I left, he would be. But - that’s better than being rejected by him, which wasn’t what happened. Sometimes things go a certain way and you find your own happiness.” 

They wanted to stay, but it was obvious that Grandad was worn out, and needed a nap. David was understandably protective of him, and his daughter was the same, only she had the energy to say it. Since they had come a long way, she didn’t kick them out. Grandad went to lay down for an hour, or however long he needed, and Devorah took them out back to show them the garden and the patch of farm. 

“There’s a chicken, but she’s just a pet,” she explained. “I didn’t even know chickens had personalities. Can you believe Uncle Archie used to butcher them?”

“They don’t let you do that anymore,” Theo said. “Health codes. And I definitely couldn’t stand to do it if I had to.”

“I didn’t know if that story about him working for the mob was true. He’s lived a pretty crazy life.”

“It’s true,” Theo said. “I mean, I heard it from Pop, who heard it from Grandad, but we don’t have any reason to think it’s not true.”

“He doesn’t talk about his old life much,” she said. “It’s a painful subject for him. He might not want to get back in touch with family, especially at this stage.”

“Is he okay?”

“His health is pretty good as far as I know. It’s pretty clean living up here. But there’s not a lot of stress in his life, and I’m sure that’s a help.”

“We’ll let him decide what we’ll tell people,” Foggy said, sensing the sensitivity of the moment. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but Devorah knew their grandfather better than they did, and she cared about his well-being. “I’ll invite them to the wedding, but they don’t have to come. I’ll see if I can invite you, but this guest list is gonna be pretty tight. There might be some awkward cuts.”

“You’re basically going to have to have a second wedding party,” Theo said. “We’ll just put sheet cake out at Uncle Timmy’s and see who shows.”

“Yeah, it might be that.” 

They chatted with David on the porch while they waited for their grandfather to wake up. He was in his late seventies, and he was curious about the family that his husband left behind, and the stories they had heard growing up. He’d googled Nelson and Murdock, and he had a bunch of questions for Foggy about his law practice - David had been a medical malpractice lawyer in New Jersey. He also had plenty of relatives (some of them speaking to him) in Florida, so he tried to give Theo and Foggy advice on having snowbird parents. He looked at family photos from their phones. 

Grandad reemerged. He was still a little tired, so they knew to keep it short, and asked him their remaining question about the shop.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “That mess. Is that still going?”

“Um, sort of?” Theo filled him in on the relevant details about Andy and Duncan.

“Well, this was all very stupid, but people take these things seriously, birthrights and all that,” Grandad said. “Timothy was supposed to inherit the shop. He was older, so it was assumed, and Edward would either have an equal share or work for him or go do something else. And the business was worth money back then - not a lot of money, but a lot of money to  _ us _ . There were a lot of people sort of living on the edges, doing this job or that, but I had a  _ business _ and it had the family name on it. People forgot that it used to be a place where I would hang pieces of bloody meat to not make anyone want to look in the back, which was where the real action was. They had a frigidaire and a really fancy crystal set for serving their alcohol. At first I served them myself, during their fancy meetings, and emptied their ashtrays, and then I stayed busy upfront so I couldn’t overhear anything the cops could ask me about. I ran a clean ship, on my side of the store. And when the RICO act sent them all to jail, I didn’t know quite to do with myself, so we bought the space next door to have a room to serve lunch and host family dinners. 

“Everything was going fine, but the boys were very competitive, especially as they got older. I shouldn’t have been so oblivious to this, but I had a lot on my mind, as I’ve mentioned. And then the Kitchen Irish came in, with their fresh ties to the old country and tattoos and drugs and whatnot, and started taking over places. Not in a serious way, they just had a presence where they hadn’t before and they sold drugs, and the mafia had never done that in Hell’s Kitchen. I didn’t like them at all, so when I found out Timothy was hiding things for them at the shop, I lost it. I worked hard to keep that place above board and he wasn’t going to ruin it and go to jail and destroy his poor mother. So the store went to Edward, who was always better with meat anyway. Actually had an interest. Ate too much of it, probably still eats his weight in it.”

“Sure does,” Theo said. “If it weren’t for arthritis, he’d still be back there with a saw right now.”

Grandad nodded. “Anyway, this all exploded in our faces for a while, but then they both got married, and their wives were friends, and that really helped. Anna and Jeanie weren’t having any of that nonsense. Liked each other from the moment they met. And it wasn’t like anybody lived far away so they saw each other all the time, then they were pregnant together, and Jeanie was helping Anna a lot, because it was Anna’s first pregnancy and Jeanie’s second, so she would bring Duncan to the store for some free babysitting from his grandmother while they would talk. And Timothy’s construction business took off, so there was a lot less financial stress for everybody. The last time I saw everyone in the same room - you and Andy were I think, maybe two, Theo? Three? And everyone seemed happy with the situation as it had worked out.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard them fight about it,” Theo explained. “But I’ve been told never to go there. Mom shuts down all talk of it, and now Andy’s doing the same.”

“The shop is your responsibility now. You can do whatever you want. But they might be offering good advice.” Grandad tapped his cane on the ground. “Let me give you both something.”

It turned out it was pinwheels - two of them, handmade and planted in decorative pots so they could sit on a shelf like they were plants. 

“I know apartments in the city are small,” he said. “But make some room.”

“Of course, Grandad.”

Grandad did get a bit teared up when they were getting ready to leave. He wanted to keep the revelations between them and maybe their parents for the time being. He needed time to think about it. And when he hugged Theo he said, “Call me anytime.”

“Thanks, Grandad.”

“Even if we don’t come, we want invitations to the wedding!” David shouted from the lawn.

It wasn’t until they were back on a properly paved road that Foggy said, “See? What were you worried about?”

  
  


Back in New York, they returned Karen’s call and called their parents from Theo’s apartment, putting them on speaker.

“You have to be shitting me,” Pop said. He was taking the news in stride. “Pop was gay? All this time? And  _ that  _ was the problem?”

“Yeah, it’s some bullshit,” Foggy said as he paced the kitchen with a beer. “And now he’s got his super hippie retirement and his pinwheels and pet chicken. Her name is Pam, by the way.”

Theo had already placed his pinwheel on the high shelf next to the trophies, where Sadie couldn’t reach it. 

“Remind me, the daughter or the chicken?” their mother said, completely serious in her question.

“The chicken, Mom. The daughter is Devorah. From David’s first marriage.”

“I’m not saying anyone should ever marry based on a lie,” their mother said, “but I am saying that having kids the old fashioned way is faster and cheaper than adopting. Or freezing eggs, Franklin.”

“Sorry, Mom, the reception is real bad here. Did you just mention something that I said was not a topic of discussion?”

“We’re so proud of both of you!” Pop interrupted. “Definitely the bravest and least stupid of the Nelson clan. I guess I’ll - call my Pop? Maybe?”

“We have to think about it, too,” their mom said. “Yes, obviously, if that’s what your grandfather wants.”

“We love you,” Theo said.

“We love you too.” 

Foggy ended the call. Everyone was exhausted. “Shit, one of us has to knock someone up soon.”

“Well, I keep trying,” Theo said with a shrug. “And it keeps not happening. I can’t seem to get anyone pregnant.”

“Gross,” Foggy said. “And seriously, this is for real, never mention freezing eggs to any woman under fifty, it is crazy expensive and involves all these hormones and storage - ”

“Now I’m grossed out.”

“See? That’s what you get. That’s what you get for making me think of terrible things in my brain, Theo.”

Theo supposed that was fair.

  
  


“You can say it.”

Matt didn’t look up from his dinner. He now regularly ate at Theo’s place, because Theo would bring him something from the shop if he was working late. Or needed a late night snack after pummeling purse snatchers. “Say what?”

“‘I told you so.’ About telling Foggy.”

“I like to think my suggestions are usually good suggestions, but I don’t need to revel in it,” he replied. “What color is the pinwheel?”

“Kind of a swirl? It looks a little like the petals were tie-dyed, but with pastels. The stem is green but the pot is purple.”

“And he sells these on Etsy?”

“Yeah. I looked up his page. I think maybe his husband - wow, so weird to say that - realized they were filling up the lawn and he had to get rid of them somehow without insulting him. They are really nice, but there’s already a lot of them there.” He looked at his phone. “We’ve texted. He says he’s not ready to be reintroduced to the family, but he wants pictures of his great-grandkids. Like every single picture I can get.”

“I’ve heard pictures are a thing to share.” 

“I don’t have any of you. I mean, that I’ve taken. I didn’t know how you feel about that.”

“Just tell me where to point my head. And let me finish eating.” He added, pointing a fork at Theo. “And no nudes. Phones are hackable and I have a career.”

Theo wanted to say that he thought he had Matt’s body pretty well memorized, but he didn’t. He did take a photo when Matt was done eating. His glasses were off, so that made it special. “But I’m not making this my lockscreen. Just so you know. Don’t be offended.”

“I don’t really know what that is, but okay. I won’t be.” 

“You don’t know what a lockscreen is?”

“I’ve been  _ told _ what it is, but I can’t picture it,” Matt admitted. “Mine is whatever the factory settings are, unless Foggy messed with it. He used to do that with my socks.”

“That’s not fair.”

Matt shrugged. “Pranks aren’t supposed to be fair.”

Theo did end up sending Grandad a picture of Matt. He sent him a lot of things, and Grandad always responded. He might not want to be in his family’s lives, but he was a committed texter to at least one person. 

Theo’s dad revealed that he followed up with his dad. “It was a little strange,” he admitted on the phone. “I haven’t heard from him in so long and I know he’s living a different life, but - same old Pop. Still gives me shit about my life decisions that he doesn’t really mean.”

“Foggy’s going to invite him and David to the wedding.”

“Yeah, he mentioned that. He said he’s not sure, but he has a lot of time to think about it. I tried to encourage him - your mother told me to encourage him. But we can be a lot, especially when we’re all in the same room and there’s booze.”

“When we’re in the same room, there’s always booze.”

“I know the Stahls are paying for the wedding and I have no right to complain, but it had better not be a cash bar is all I can say. Or we’re wheeling kegs in through the back.”

They honored Grandad’s decision not to contact other family members quite yet, and the next time Theo saw Duncan when he inevitably stopped by for free food or weed, he didn’t bring it up. It made things easier for Theo, even though he now had a new secret - he also had a new support system, and a new reason to stick with the family line about not hiring the other side of the family to work in the store, even when Duncan groaned and grunted about “hauling rocks” for his younger brother. 

Things were going to be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filling prompt from Callistemon: [Sadie] attacks Matt in a way that the injuries look like Daredevil injuries. Theo doesn’t believe Matt when he claims it was [Sadie]... or maybe it’s the other way round - Matt is reluctant to dob in the cat, but Theo finds out... or something.

Theo drifted. He was trying to breath in salty, metallic water. A nurse opened his eye (he didn’t know it was closed) and shined a light in it, and he flinched, but he couldn’t move. 

  
  


The taste of blood (it was blood, he remembered now) was gone, replaced by plastic. There was a giant straw in his mouth now. The lights above him were very bright, occasionally blocked when someone moved their body in the way of his line of sight.

  
  


There was pressure on his hand. Someone was holding his hand. It took his brain a long time to get from the first realization to the second. 

  
  


Someone else was holding his hand. Or maybe the same person. It was a different warmth. He couldn’t move his fingers at all to respond. They weren’t numb, just weighed down by exhaustion. 

He was still choking on a straw. Or he should have been - he didn’t quite know where his gag reflex had gone. His lungs were sore - everything was sore, especially on his right side - from the enforced breathing. He realized he wasn’t taking deep breaths on his own. The tubes were doing it for him. 

To say it was unpleasant was an understatement.

“Hi, honey,” his mother said, stroking his cheek that was more shaven than he remembered it being. His hair was heavy, either wet or weighed down by grease. He hadn’t realized his eyes were open - he hadn’t really been  _ seeing _ because he was taking in other information. 

He tried to talk, but he couldn’t, of course. Not with a tube down his throat. 

“Hello, Theo,” said someone on the other side of his bed. Someone he didn’t recognize at all. He tried to turn his head to see her and regretted it. Everything  _ hurt _ . She didn’t explain who she was. She was in scrubs. “I know you’re probably uncomfortable, but I’ve called the pulmonologist, and we’ll see if you’re ready to breathe on your own, okay? It won’t be very long.”

He couldn’t gather a response to any of that, which was fine, because he wouldn’t be able to verbalize it, either. All he really wanted to do was scream that he wanted this fucking tube out of his fucking mouth. 

So maybe he started panicking. A little. He deserved to. He had no idea where he was (when had he gone to Florida? Was it still Easter?) or what was going on. No one was really telling him anything - they were talking amongst themselves and he couldn’t follow their conversations. His mom was talking to him and he couldn’t even understand that. 

“ - the pulmonologist,” said the woman, a new woman, next to his mom. He recognized the word. “We’re going to turn off the ventilator, but we can’t remove the equipment until we see that you can breathe on your own. It might take a little bit of time for you to re-find your rhythm. That’s normal. Try not to overthink it. Are you ready?”

Yes, he was so fucking ready. He was hyped up about it. But he had no way of telling her that other than the slightest of nods. 

He didn’t feel it at all. He noticed that the hissing stopped - wow, that machine was loud - but other than that he still felt awful and exhausted and it was hard to focus on the doctor, who was quite literally telling him how to breath.

“Breathe in ... breathe out. Can you follow the sound of my voice, Theo?”

Oh right, breathing. The thing he needed to be doing. He did need to think about it, and when he did it, it hurt - a lot. Every time. But the doctor had a soothing voice and she was very patient, and it seemed like she was standing there for just about forever until she finally stopped telling him how to use his own fucking lungs and said, “Great job. You’re doing well.” She turned to the side. “Mrs. Nelson, I need you to step out of the room for a few minutes.”

“I can - “

“Hospital policy,” she explained, firmer in her voice now, like this was a conversation she’d had dozens, maybe hundreds of time. 

There were more people around him now - the nurse from before, and a male nurse or orderly, he wasn’t sure. This was going to be a project.

“You’re going to feel a momentary discomfort,” the doctor said. “You’ll feel the need to cough. That’s fine, as long as you can return to your breathing. Don’t worry - we’re all right here, and we’re not going anywhere until we see that you’re going to be fine on your own.”

Fine. He was fine, he really was. He was not freaking out at being in an unfamiliar place, filled with unfamiliar people, and with a machine that made him feel like he had a facehugger from  _ Alien _ attached to him. At least that guy had been unconscious. And it was just a movie.

They counted down and then they pulled, and yeah, it was _ discomforting _ . He was in a lot of  _ discomfort _ . His gag reflex came back to life, and he was choking for real now, but only for a second before the tube was gone. But his body wasn’t done - he was almost sitting up and ow ow ow ow his whole right side was burning and he dry-coughed and coughed until there were specks of blood on the blanket in front of him.

“It’s all right,” said the orderly, who was holding him up on the side that hurt considerably less. “Easy. Easy.”

He wanted to just keep coughing until his lungs came up, but he was so tired, and he couldn’t stay in a sitting position for long and two sets of hands helped him lay back down. Someone wiped his face and put an oxygen mask over it. 

“Oxygen stats are good,” someone said. “Do you want - “

He never found out what they wanted of him. 

  
  


Everything still hurt.

It hurt to move, hurt to breathe, hurt to think. Hurt to open his eyes, even though the lights were no longer on full blast. Hurt to listen to the Mets game. His face was irritated from all of the tubing and remains of medical tape. The oxygen mask seemed to make a hissing sound, or maybe that was ambient noise from somewhere else.

Foggy was trying not to cheer, to make noise, but he definitely wanted to. Foggy loved the Mets. He was holding Theo’s hand. He unintentionally squeezed it when he whispered “Come on!” to some play he felt passionate about. Theo squeezed back just to get him to stop.

“Oh, hey - hey, you’re awake!” Foggy came alive at the news. He was wearing his work clothing, sans tie jacket and tie, but he still had that obnoxious vest on. “Hold on - I’m gonna get the nurse.”

He ran out before Theo could do anything, not that Theo wanted to do anything.

“Hi, Theo,” said the nurse who came back with him. Theo honestly did not know if he remembered her from before or if she just had a similar tone of voice. She looked at whatever was to his side, beyond his peripheral vision. “You’ve been breathing well and you’re getting enough oxygen, so we’re going to switch out the mask, okay? It’ll make it easier to talk and drink. Your throat is probably pretty sore.”

Holy shit, yes, now that he thought about it. Even his lips were chapped and dry. His face mask was replaced with the tube that went around his ears and under his nose. Foggy had a cup with a straw in his hand. “Do you think you can drink? It’s just water.”

And that hurt, and swallowing hurt, because everything hurt, but he kept going because he was parched, until he could push the cup away with the free arm. “Okay.” His voice sounded like a truck had run over his vocal chords.

“Are you feeling any discomfort?”

“Yeah.” That was putting it mildly.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you describe your pain?”

The longer he was awake, the more aware of it he was. “I don’t know,” was his honest answer. “Seven? Eight?”

“Do you have any medical allergies that are not in your chart or that your family doesn’t know about?”

“No.”

“Drugs,” Foggy said helpfully. “He wants drugs.”

“Yes,” he said, glad he didn’t have to say more.

“I can get you a standard pain reliever, and we can move to a narcotic if that’s not enough. We’ve been avoiding using them because in large quantities they can cause respiratory depression.” She put a buzzer into his hand. “I want you to press that if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.” He didn’t want to say anything else and slow down her getting of drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. 

When she left, Foggy didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. “You look great.”

It was a huge lie. Theo didn’t call him out on it. “Where am I?” He was embarrassed to ask, but he just had to.

“ICU. At Metro General,” Foggy clarified. “They said if your breathing stabilizes, they’re going to move you to a step-down unit. It’ll be quieter. And you can have more than one visitor at a time, which would be great. You can have like, ten doctors in here, but more than one family member comes in and they freak out.”

“Um, okay.” It hurt to talk, but he needed to keep doing it. “Wha - what’s wrong with my lungs?” In other words, why couldn’t he take a breath without pain and a clinching feeling in his side?

“You don’t remember?” Foggy asked, and Theo’s response was no response, which was enough. “And no one told you? Or maybe someone did. They did say that because you were sedated so long, you might have some confusion when you first wake up and not to worry about it. But I thought someone - “

“Fogg.”

“You were shot. Twice. During a robbery. Are you sure you don’t remember? Think hard.”

That was quite a command. The nurse returned with ordinary pills, and said she would be back with morphine. He couldn’t wait. “Um.” He remembered being at work and - was that the last thing that happened? “No.”

“Nothing? Because Brett’s going to want to know. He’s going to come by tomorrow, actually, and you should have a lawyer present. You’re not a suspect or anything, it’s just what you should have when you’re talking to a police officer. And I know it’s Brett and everything, but trust me. You need an advocate.”

“No.” And he was just getting more confused. “Nothing. Was I at work?”

Foggy sighed. “So I’m not supposed to give you details so you can have time to maybe remember them on your own and not be influenced by other people. It can create false memories. But yes. You were in the shop, you were alone, there was an attempted robbery, and you were shot. And you’ve been here ever since. And they haven’t caught the guys, so if you do remember anything, it’s incredibly relevant. Like wake Brett up in the middle of the night relevant.” He softened. “But it’s okay if it doesn’t come. You can’t force it.”

He really couldn’t. There was just a big blank between him and the past. He didn’t even know what day it had been, or if the shop was closed or open, or what he had been doing - “What day is it?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

Theo stared at him blankly.

“Not counting the night you were brought in, you’ve been here for ... five days. Yeah. Five. You were on a ventilator so they kept you sedated.”

“Five ... “ Try as he might, he couldn’t make his brain do calculations. “Shit! The shop!” He sat up a little, inadvertently, and cried out. There was the real pain, in his chest and shoulder. Foggy had to help him back down as the nurse gave him an injection of morphine. Theo was breathing heavily from the exertion, but he still said, “I have to be there.”

“Theo, the shop is a crime scene. It’s closed. And insurance is going to fix all of the damage, which isn’t extensive, so there’s nothing you have to worry about. Except the display case - apparently we aren’t covered for acts of damage by ‘people with abilities,’ which is some bullshit I don’t have the energy to fight in court right now. So there’s no shop to run, and Pop could run it anyway.”

“He’s in Florida.”

“Nope, they both flew in as soon as they heard. First flight out in the morning. And they got about four dozen offers of rides on the family channel because everyone wanted an excuse to visit, even though we told them no visitors. Mom said you woke up earlier - do you remember that?”

“I thought I dreamed that,” Theo admitted. “They didn’t have to come.”

“Uh, trust me, they had to come. No one told them to.”

He still felt bad about it. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“No. It was after closing time. You were alone. And they didn’t get any money - not that that’s important right now.”

Theo tried to think of what was important. His shop, his employees ... “Sadie!”

“She’s fine. We’re feeding her. And, yeah, for all the love she might give Matt, guess who’s cleaning her litter box? Because I’m not the one with super senses. And do I get an ounce of appreciation from her? Of course not. She just hisses at me.”

“What are you feeding her?” His head was starting to feel heavy. Maybe it was the drugs working.

“A can of wet food every night and something cooked. We used up the meat in your freezer and that fish, so Mom boiled chicken for her. Mom made your cat chicken. If you can remember this, just keep that in mind. That cat rates.”

“Good.” He added, “Thank you,” but he was so, so tired.

“Looks like you’re feeling it.” Foggy took his hand. “I’m gonna slip ‘em a twenty, make sure you get the good shit.” 

“Gonna need more than a twenty,” Theo said before he closed his eyes.

  
  


He woke up not knowing where he was again. He really wasn’t a fan of it. The lights were almost entirely out except for some behind his bed, and the room was quieter.

“Hi,” Matt said. “Do you want me to get the nurse?”

Matt was to his left. He had a laptop open on the chair next to him with earpods still attached so he had probably been getting some work done. He removed his glasses and stood.

Theo hit the nurse button instead. He was still waking up, but for now, the pain was bearable. “It’s okay.” 

“You should drink something,” Matt said. He had a juice pack at the ready. “You need calories.”

“I always need calories,” Theo said, but accepted the drink. He’d discovered things went much better if he didn’t try to move his right side. That arm was not in a cast but it was in a sling, so he used the left instead. 

It was cheap apple juice, just sugar in water, and it tasted off anyway, but he drank it because Matt was waiting so patiently for him to do it.

“Do you want something else? They’re starting you on clear liquids. We said vegan, and somehow that was translated to ‘kosher meal’ so it’s a meat-based soup three times a day. Though I’m positive no chickens were harmed in the making of that chicken soup.”

“Ugh, no.” He was too tired to be hungry. His throat was better, but his voice still sounded more graveley than usual. “Thank you. What are you doing here?”

“This is my shift,” Matt said. “You haven’t been alone since you came out of surgery.”

He had vague memories of his hand being held. He didn’t know if they were imaginary or not. “Shouldn’t you be out ... doing what you do?”

“Did it earlier,” Matt said. “Criminals keep more regular hours than you’d think.”

Matt seemed ... nervous. Not like he was hiding something. No, worried. He was worried.

“Can you hear what’s going on in my body?”

“You’re better,” That was his answer. “Much better.” He changed topics quickly. “Do you remember anything?”

His brain was a fog. “No, not really. What happened? Did you save me?”

“No. Foggy and I were bailing out a client in another precinct. Jessica saved you.”

“Jessica Jones?”

Matt nodded. “She was at the bar down the street and she heard the shots and realized where they might have come from, so she threw the metal display case at them and grabbed you. She’s not going to tell you that she flew to the hospital, but that’s what she did.”

“She flew? Jessica can fly?” 

“She calls it jumping. The point is, she can do it over buildings and city blocks, which was how she got you to the ER without going down the whole avenue and back. She demanded a case of bourbon for her efforts. Which, fine. Delivery’s coming to her place tomorrow.”

“I should send her a card or something,” Theo said as the nurse entered. She asked about his pain level and breathing, then agreed to get him another dose of morphine. “I can’t believe I flew. Or was flown. And I don’t even remember it.”

“Brett’s going to come by, see if he can jog your memory.”

“Foggy told me. Have a lawyer. As if it isn’t Brett. So they haven’t caught the guys?” He put a special emphasis on ‘they.’

“We know it’s not anyone from Hell’s Kitchen. No one knows anything about it.” And he had the knuckles to prove it. When the nurse came she turned the light on, and Theo saw the skin was practically shredded.

“Matt,” he said with concern, reaching as far as he could - not very far - to take Matt’s hand. 

“It wasn’t anyone who didn’t deserve it,” Matt assured him. “For one reason or another. Also I don’t think the padded gloves I ordered on eBay are working out.”

“You’re hurt,” Theo said. Now that he could focus he could see bandaids all over Matt’s forearm, mostly covered by his sleeve. “How did you - wait. I know that type of wound.”

Matt pulled his sleeve all the way down. “It’s been a rough week.”

“Those are scratches. On your arms.” 

“Some people have very long nails.”

But he wasn’t buying it. “Sadie has never scratched you before.”

“She’s not thrilled that I keep coming in without you. Your dad said we should put her in the kennel, but I stood up for her.”

“Thank you,” Theo said. “She hates the kennel. She shouldn’t have to suffer just because I couldn’t dodge a bullet.”

“Two. At point-blank range. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

But Theo felt shitty about it anyway. He didn’t have the energy to argue. It was clearly very early in the morning and the morphine was taking effect. Matt knew that, because Matt knew everything. He kissed him on the cheek. “Get some sleep.”

“Stop beating people up for me.”

“No promises.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the morning, his mother and father were there to greet him, as well a nurse to check all of his vitals. He was not in a step-down unit - he was in a private VIP room. His parents didn’t know how it happened. They were just told there wasn’t a bed available on the regular ward and they wouldn’t be charged extra for the room. The nurse introduced herself as Linda, and said the goal of the day was to get him sitting up as much as possible. They succeeded in getting his feet over the side of the bed, and when the dizziness passed, his father helped him to the chair. He couldn’t believe how winded he was from just getting into a chair. He wasn’t short of breath, but it hurt to breathe too deeply.

The meal was still a kosher one, but he ate the jello, and Mom gave him some homemade soup to drink from a cup. She explained that she’d been cooking up a storm since she knew he wouldn’t like the hospital food.

The surgeon came by and even though Theo was tired and woozy from the drugs, he managed to hold it together as he was walked through what was done to him. There were too many medical terms for him to remember, but essentially, there were three wounds - an entrance and exit wound for the the bullet that pierced his right lung, which caused it to collapse, and one in his shoulder from the second bullet, which had torn through muscle and was buried in bone when they removed it. They managed to save the lung by resecting some of it, but the injury was why it hurt to use it. The other injury was less life-threatening but would require a long recovery.

“There will probably be some loss of vertical rotation of your shoulder, but with physical therapy, it should be minimal,” the surgeon said. “That’s the ability to raise your arm above your head. But for now it’s best to keep it immobilized while the wound is healing.”

It was a lot to take in. He had been on a ventilator for days. He now remembered not being able to breathe, and not because of the tube, but because he was drowning. It had been because his lungs were filling up with blood. He remembered being on the floor for this.

“This will all be in the report, which is yours to keep,” the surgeon said. “I can go over it again at a later date when it’s time to discuss therapy options.” Maybe the doctor could guess that Theo couldn’t handle everything right now.

“Thank you.” He wanted to be more enthusiastic about it. This guy had been part of a team that saved his life. But at the moment, all he wanted to do was get back in bed, even if he didn’t know how he could get there.

They had thought that out for him, and the orderly helped him back into bed, where he couldn’t get to sleep fast enough.

  


He slept several hours. His sleep/wake cycle seemed to coincide with his morphine wearing off. The nurse asked him if he wanted to try getting into the chair again, but the answer was decidedly “No.” He was made to breathe as hard as he could into a device that measured his lung capacity and they changed the bandages on his chest, which he looked away for. His mother was with him, and Foggy came by with coffee (good coffee, as opposed to the hospital coffee) just ahead of Brett. Theo had seen Brett with his suit and badge before, but this was different. He had a little notebook with him, but the initial mood was jovial.

“You know, you don’t have to compete with Foggy over everything,” he said, gesturing to his own shoulder. “But you definitely win.”

“I will have you know that I am rocking a pretty huge scar,” Foggy said, of his own shooting. “Looks like everyone but you has gotta be a gangster.”

“For the record, I would rather not be,” Theo said. Mom kissed him before leaving to get some food, and Brett took her seat, next to the bed.

“We’re going to do an abbreviated version of this,” he said, opening his notebook. “We’ll need a longer, recorded statement at a later point. And you don’t need legal counsel right now.”

“I don’t have the energy to fight you and I don’t have the energy to fight Foggy,” Theo said. “You guys do your thing. But my memory’s not great.”

“We’re going to see if we can jog it. Just answer as honestly as you can. If you don’t know, say you don’t know.” He had an old-fashioned pencil. “First of all, do you know of anyone who would have reason to want to hurt you?”

“No.”

“Have you ever received any threats to yourself or to the store in general?”

“No. This is a robbery we’re talking about, right?”

“We have to consider every possibility,” Brett said. “Has anyone - customer, employee, family member - acted in a suspicious manner recently?”

“No.”

“Have you lent or borrowed money from anyone recently?”

“No.”

“There’s a safe in the backroom. Who knows the combination?”

“Um, Mom and Pop. And me.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Anyone asked about it? What’s in there, that kind of thing?”

“No one.”

“Do you keep a weapon in the store?”

Theo wondered if Brett already knew these answers. “We used to. We got rid of it when Pop’s hands started shaking.”

“What kind of gun? And did you know how to use it?”

“A shotgun. And when I started working at the store as an adult, he took me and a retired police officer friend to a shooting range and taught me how to use it. I didn’t like it at all. I was a bad shot and I felt like there’s nothing in the store that’s worth anybody’s life, even a criminal’s. So we got rid of it once Pop couldn’t use it. That was two years ago.” Theo remembered because it was right after the official arthritis diagnosis. “I don’t know what he did with it, but it’s not in the shop anymore.”

“How often do you empty the register?”

“We handle a lot of cash, but we’re not open at night, so not that often. When it’s overflowing or there’s a lot of large bills that don’t need to be in there.”

“And who has the keys?”

“Just me. There’s a spare set, but it’s in the safe.”

“Okay, the night in question. Who worked in the store that day?”

“It was Thursday, right?” He looked at Foggy, who nodded. “It was um, Deon and Cathy. Cathy does lunch service, ten to two. Deon’s ten to six. Do you need their last names?”

“We’ve interviewed them. We just have to match everyone’s stories,” Brett said. “Deon’s punch card has six written in instead of punched in.”

“Yeah, I let him go early because there wasn’t anything for him to do, but I pay him for the hours I promised him. And it’s easier to do payroll with round numbers.”

“When did he leave?”

“Uh, sometime around 5:45.”

“And you closed up at six?”

Theo nodded.

“How often do you stay past six?”

“I’m usually there until at least 6:30. A couple nights a week, it’s at least an hour, maybe two. Thursday is the late night, because I do payroll and whatever other things I can do so I can be out the door earlier on Friday night.”

“Were you expecting anyone come by?”

“No.”

“Did you have plans after you left the shop?”

“Um,” Theo squirmed. “How private is this?”

“I only have to put things that are relevant to the case in the official report,” Brett said. “These are just notes. And we interviewed Matt, so your relationship is not an unknown item. We deal with a lot of discreet information.”

Theo looked at Foggy, who nodded. “Matt was a maybe. We both had long days. And he would have come in much later, like after nine or ten.”

“Okay.” Brett didn’t even write it down. “The robbery. What do you remember?”

“Lying on the floor,” Theo said. “Trying to breathe.”

“Do you know where you were lying?”

“What?”

Brett took out a floor plan of the front of the shop. “Can you point to where you were lying?”

Theo frowned and circled the area in front of the register with his finger. “Probably. I’m not sure.”

“What’s the last thing you remember doing before you were in that spot?”

He took a sip of water while he tried to remember. “I was doing payroll on the work laptop in the dining room. It used to do it in the backroom, but my back room is now a lawyer’s office and I can’t disturb their paperwork.”

“Do you remember what made you leave the dining room? Did you hear something? Or see something?”

It was coming back to him. It must have been somewhere in his brain. “There was a noise. Like glass breaking. I didn’t think anything of it, because it’s Hell’s Kitchen, but then I heard the door chimes, so I knew someone got in the front.”

“And you went to the front to see who it was?”

Theo nodded. “My escape plan is to dart out the back, and leave through the side door.” He pointed to the entrance to the back room.

“But you didn’t flee. Do you know why?”

“I - I don’t remember the order of things so well.”

“How many people did you see? One? Two? Three?”

“More than one.”

“Was it three? Maybe four? Five?”

“Five seems high. But I’m not sure the exact number.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

Now it came back to him. “No.” He was just slow to the draw. Brett waited patiently for him to say, “They had masks on. Black ones.”

Brett pulled out another picture. It was a sketch of a man with a ski mask covering his face. “Did they look like this?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you make out their skin color?”

“Light?” He didn’t want to guess ethnicities. “I couldn’t see a lot of skin.”

“Were they armed?”

“One of them must have had a gun.”

“Did you see it? Do you remember if it was one-handed or two-handed?”

“One-handed.”

Brett had yet another picture - the blueprint of a pistol. “Did it look like this?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t seem wrong. Where did you get that?”

“It matches the ballistics of the bullet taken out of the wall. Was there more than one gun?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did they have any other weapons?”

“I don’t remember,” Theo said. “One of them must have, right? Because they had to smash the glass to open the front door. But I didn’t hear a gunshot then.”

“But you don’t remember if you saw a second weapon.”

“No.”

“Did they talk to you? Did you talk to them?”

He was increasingly frustrated with his brain’s refusal to give up information. “Yes but ... I don’t remember what was said.”

“Normally in a robbery, the thief wants the person they’re robbing to open their own register, because it needs a key and the owner will know where it is and how to use it, so it’s much faster than doing it themselves. But you were here.” He pointed to the spot in front of the register. “You would have had to climb over the counter or go around to get to the register. Were you back there at any point?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Did they ask you for your keys?”

“I don’t know.”

“How were you standing? Were your hands up or down?”

“Up.”

“Like this?” Brett put his hands up like he was surrendering.

“Yeah. I remember being really scared. I - I think I told them not to kill me. Something like that.”

“And how did they respond?”

“I don’t remember. Everything they said is like, a blur.”

“Do you think you could recognize their voices in a lineup?”

“No. They were muffled. Because of the masks.” He gestured over his face. “I didn’t recognize them.”

“Did you move again before you were shot?”

“I don’t think so.”

“After you were shot, you were on the ground, but you were still conscious. Did you hear them talking?”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention. I couldn’t pay attention. I was taking deep breaths but it was like nothing would go in my lungs.”

“Did you hear anyone else come in?”

“Matt said Jessica Jones saved me.”

“Do you remember it?”

He shook his head. “She could have been there and I wouldn’t have known.”

“What’s the next thing you remember?”

“A nurse flashing a light in my eyes.”

“So, in the hospital.” Brett made more notes. “Okay, Theo. Can we go over this one more time?”

It was two more times, to be precise. There was a good reason: each time, Theo got a little firmer in his knowledge of the details, and narrowed it down to three people with light skin, probably men. One of them had a baseball bat. He tried to flee but one of them threatened to shoot him. But the whole conversation still wasn’t clear - Theo knew there was more that he couldn’t remember, and he was tiring out.

“Can we wrap this up, Officer?” Foggy said in a polite version of his lawyer voice. “My client has done all he can do today.”

“Sure.” Brett took a card out of his pocket. “Theo, if you remember anything else, no matter how small, I want you to call this number. At any hour, day or night. Okay?”

“Okay.” But he really wanted to just close his eyes. “Do you have any suspects?”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.” He pulled out one last thing - a bar of fancy dark chocolate. “From my mom. She made you soup, too. Split pea. I hope you like it because she made about a gallon of it and it’s sitting in her freezer.”

“Thanks, Brett.” He didn’t take the chocolate, so Brett put it on the bed tray. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“Hey. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters.”

“Did Jessica really fly me to the hospital?”

“She wouldn’t admit to it until I about nailed her to the wall, but yes.”

“So cool.”

Brett smiled. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost perspective.”

  


Things became a routine. The nurse on shift would make him breathe into the machine whenever he was awake, and push him to start moving. First he successfully walked to the chair, then the bathroom door. He was still on an IV and oxygen, so he couldn’t go far. His mother always insisted he eat and brought homemade food to entice him. She brought him a huge stack of get well cards that came to his apartment, but he found just the notion too overwhelming, so she read them to him instead of making him go through them himself. Foggy brought him his ancient iPod - the one before they started including WiFi capabilities.

“Are you trying to keep me off the internet?” It was only occurring to Theo now, two days after he first woke up, that he hadn’t looked at his phone.

“You’re going to have a million messages and you’re going to stay up late reading and responding to them,” Foggy said, because it was completely true. “Give until at least tomorrow. The doctor recommended it. He said it’s easier for patients to rest when they’re disconnected from social media.”

“Tomorrow,” Theo grumbled, but he accepted the iPod. He fell asleep listening to an audiobook he’d forgotten he owned.

  


Foggy’s plan turned out to be a wise one. Theo had approximately a thousand emails, texts, and other forms of messages. There was even a special channel just for family to get updated on his condition, and he posted to it that he was feeling much better, and he had never posted anything that was “liked” or “loved” or responded to so fast. There were concerned texts from old flames, business contacts, people he met once at a party, and people he didn’t even remember. He couldn’t even begin to handle them, especially with the punishing schedule of walks back and forth to the nurses’ station and breathing exercises. He wasn’t allowed to shower yet, but he could sit up and let the orderly wash his hair, which felt fucking awesome.

He was allowed visitors, but his parents kept people away, lest he be bombarded with family. It was already a lot having someone constantly by his side, even at night, but he didn’t say anything about it yet.

When he asked for an update on the case, Foggy just said, “Brett’s interviewing a lot of people.”

Theo didn’t know if there was more, so he waited until he saw Matt again, and asked him, knowing Matt would give him a better answer.

“He’s not telling anyone that he has a suspect,” Matt said. “Even your parents. Not in custody. Just under surveillance, probably. He has to play this very close to the chest. He’s a professional, and there could easily be questions down the line about leaks and family influence. So he’s crossing his t’s and dotting his i’s now.” He added, “Plus, you know some violent people.”

But Matt had stopped beating people up at night - or gotten better gloves - because his hands were healing.

“Other people are asking around,” Matt said. “Luke is, probably not in an entirely legal manner. And Colleen, in Danny’s place while he’s abroad. And of course Jessica, even if she denies it. I’d tell Spider-man but I don’t think he would know where to start. He’s like the other Avengers - more of a first responder.”

“It was just a robbery.”

“I think Brett might think otherwise. But he won’t say so. He’s a good cop and we’re letting him do his job.” Matt’s job was just related in a certain fashion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they didn’t exactly rush to get the money in the most efficient way possible, did they? You would have opened the register if they asked. But they didn’t ask.”

Theo hadn’t considered that. He had time on his hands, but the drugs messed with his concentration, a tradeoff he was happy to make for the moment. He wished he could find a balcony and get a little weed in his system, since they wanted him to stay calm and rest so badly, but he was on oxygen, so he didn’t even covertly ask.

  


The next day, he finally had a visitor who wasn’t family. Even his parents were starstruck by Luke Cage, the only real celebrity of the Defenders. Millions of people had watched the dashcam footage of him attacking the police online, and there were additional videos of him being shot and shrugging it off. The New Yorker even did a fawning profile of him when he was cleared of all charges, including his prior conviction. Theo’s parents knew Foggy represented him, but seeing him in person was different - especially with him all casual, in a hoodie that was not currently full of bullet holes.

“Hey! Family only!” Theo said when he saw Luke.

“I’m Luke Cage. I can get in anywhere I want,” he replied. “Though it did take me two days to get Foggy to give up your room number.” He turned to Theo’s mother. “You raised two fine young men, Mrs. Nelson.”

His mother blushed. Actually blushed. “Oh, it’s, um, so nice of you to say that. How do you know Theo? Through Foggy?”

“That bar on the next block? The one with the green sign? I worked there for about ten seconds,” Luke said. He shook Theo’s father’s hand. “Honor to meet you, Mr. Nelson.”

“Call me Ed,” Pop said.

“We’ll let you two catch up,” Mom said. “Theo, text us.”

“Go, Mom!” He sounded a little bratty when he said it, but that was excusable. “Uh. I haven’t had a moment alone since I woke up in the hospital.”

Luke took the seat next to the bed. It creaked when he sat down. “How’re you feeling?”

“I guess I’m okay, but that’s because I’m breathing on my own now. Do I have enough bullet wounds to be a gangster? Foggy thinks he is.”

“Look, I’m not gonna stop either of you from saying that. To each other. And other white people.”

Theo laughed. It felt great to smile. His lips were still chapped and it hurt just a little but he didn’t mind. Everything seemed to hurt all the time anyway. “You know, not all of us can walk off being shot.”

“Hey, the one time I had to take the bullet, it stayed in my stomach for about three days before Claire figured out how to get it out. We needed an ultrasound to find it. And I had to ride to Georgia to find the doctor who could extract it. And I won’t even go into the part about the acid bath,” Luke explained, and Theo didn’t doubt any of it. “I just hope I never need bloodwork.”

“How is everybody? Am I a thing?”

“An attempted robbery in Hell’s Kitchen? You made the news for a couple hours. Maybe more on New York One. After that, everyone was just wondering what all of those cop cars were doing racing around in the middle of the night. Officer - what’s his name?”

“Brett Mahoney.”

“Yeah, he lit up the city for a little while trying to find those guys. You guys close?”

“When he was a little kid, his father was on patrol when the shop was robbed - or attempted robbery, I guess - and he took a bullet meant for my dad. Died on the spot. Ever since then, we’ve been family. Foggy and Brett went to school together and they do this dance where they act like they hate each other, especially now that Foggy’s a criminal defense attorney and Brett is a detective, but it’s all bullshit.”

“The way he was sending people out, I thought a cop had been shot,” Luke said. “And then Matt called. Which is never good.”

“I haven’t asked for specifics, but I know he’s been doing things that I can’t stop him from doing,” Theo said. “What about you? Please tell me you haven’t been bashing heads.”

“I’m more on the information end. And whoever these guys are, they’re lying low. Which is the smart move. They don’t know who they messed with. Colleen’s got Chinatown locked down, and Jessica’s keeping an eye out, but there’s been nothing.”

“I should really tell you not to hurt anybody,” Theo said. “I don’t want you to hurt anybody. But somehow I can’t bring myself to say it right now.”

“Anything I can do for you, man, I’ll do it.”

Theo thought about it. “Um, this might be a rude way to ask you to use your powers, but while you’re down here, can you help Matt and Foggy feed my cat? She’s furious that I’ve disappeared and she’s scratching both of them up. Is that okay to ask?”

Luke burst into laughter. He had a deep, sexy laugh. He was probably gonna walk out of the hospital with a bunch of hot nurses’ numbers. “Actually, that might be the best request I’ve gotten so far.”

“Thank you. Thank you _so much_.”

Luke leaned over and they bumped fists. “I said anything, didn’t I?”

  


Just before he fell asleep for the night, Theo got a text from Foggy with a picture of Luke holding up his arm for the camera. Sadie was hanging from it, having tried to bite into his arm and failed.

 _Tell her if she’s not nice, I’ll send her to Uncle Luke’s_ , he typed.

 **_Definitely his place over mine_ **, Foggy wrote back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filling prompt: "Theo meets Maggie, some sort of unplanned meeting, and she’s nice to him which maybe throws him a little."

Theo woke up feeling particularly crummy. He felt bad that he took it out on the nurse when she asked him to do a lap around the nurses’ station, apologizing profusely when he realized what he had done. When his mother arrived, he was in the chair for breakfast, but only because he was too embarrassed to refuse. 

He was tired of all of the visitors and the nurses and the walks. He hadn’t had a moment to himself. Not that he had anything to do, but it would be nice.

“Mom,” he said. “Go home. Please. You look exhausted.”

“I can call your father.”

“He’s tired, too. You can’t run yourself ragged,” he said, trying to come up with reasons for her to leave. “Please. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll call. I promise,” Theo said. He did mean it, really. Just not right away. 

“Okay, honey,” she said, and kissed him on the head. G-d, he needed a shower, but he wasn’t strong enough to take one yet, and he needed to keep his bandages dry. “We won’t be far.”

He grumbled a response, then happily crawled back into bed. The nurse came to check on him from time to time, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He only stopped her to ask for another blanket. Hospital blankets couldn’t keep anyone warm. There were plenty of things to look at on his phone, but he left it on the tray, letting his mind wander.

He wasn’t supposed to have any unexpected visitors, but he got one anyway. “Hi,” Marci said after a tentative knock on the open door. “Look, I know you might want to rest, so I can just go. I just had some time between meetings.”

He forced himself awake. He hadn’t really been sleeping. “It’s fine.” He hadn’t seen a lot of Marci, but he knew she was there for Foggy when he needed her, and she’d been at his bedside when he was still sedated. “Come in. Please.”

“How do you feel? Stupid question, I know.”

“Bad,” he said. He supposed he deserved to say that once in a while. “I think today - my body is just sick of everything. The hospital, the tubes, the check-ups, everything.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “So, I’ve been told you are not a fan of teddybears.” 

“That’s true.”

“I got Foggy one when he was shot - you know, because of the nickname. So - “ She reached into her carry bag and pulled out a stuffed animal. It was a moose, complete with bandages across the chest and shoulder, just like his. “Do you like it?”

“Fuck, I love it,” he said, happily accepting it from her. “Thank you.” It was especially soft.

“I know Amazon is the big evil corporation now we’re all supposed to avoid, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And I got you this - “ And she pulled out a miniature bottle of whiskey and set it on the tray next to all of the stupid juices he didn’t want to drink now.

“Oh my G-d. If Foggy bails and won’t marry you, I will,” he said. He stuffed the moose under his armpit and opened the bottle. “This’ll be our secret.”

“Just try not drink it all at once. I’m sure it shouldn’t be combined with your meds. Unless you want to have a really great time.” She added, “I shouldn’t be encouraging this.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said, feeling the burn down his throat. It was mid-level stuff - they didn’t sell blue label whiskey in bottles you could take on an airplane - but he didn’t care. 

Marci sat down next to him and tried to chat, but between the liquor and the exhaustion returning, his ability to rally for her was waning. He spaced out on a number of her questions.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you watching the maternity channel?”

“No?” He looked at the TV. A soothing voice was giving a woman in pink scrubs instructions about how to hold a baby. “Yes?”

“Maybe you have been in the hospital too long. Let me just check.” She leaned over and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. It was meant to be a joke, but her demeanor changed immediately. “You’re burning up.”

“No, I’m cold,” he corrected. “I’ve been cold all morning.”

“I’m going to get the nurse.”

“Don’t.” he said, but she was already gone. He really didn’t want an intruder. He just wanted to stare at the screen and not think too hard. 

 “ - is due for it anyway,” said the nurse, he didn’t remember her name. A nice woman on the current shift. Not Linda, the private nurse who mostly worked nights. “Hi, Theo. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” he admitted. “Cold.”

She put the thermometer in his ear. From the expression on her face, she did not like the result. “You’re running a fever. How do you feel? Is your throat sore? Do you have a runny nose?”

“None of those.”

“Does your body ache?”

It did, now that he thought about it. He just thought he was tired, and the pain in his shoulder usually distracted him from the rest of his body, but his limbs hurt in a way that the morphine wasn’t helping. “I guess so.”

“I’m going to get the floor doctor. Don’t eat or drink anything, okay?”

She darted out, and Theo said, “Whoops.” The alcohol was definitely taking the edge off, but he wasn’t immune to the rising sense of alarm in the room. “I’m fine.”

“Your fever is 103. You’re not fine,” Marci said. “Mystery solved, huh?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t feel the need to. He wanted to close his eyes, but he was self-conscious about it. She made time for him during a weekday, which couldn’t have been easy, and she brought him booze. And a stuffed moose that he was now squeezing to death. He named him Jonathan Edwards. 

“Hello, Theo.” It was the floor doctor. People were always introducing themselves to him. Or maybe they were just trying to get his attention. “I understand you’re running a high fever today, but you don’t have any flu-like symptoms?”

He shook his head. “I just feel bad.”

“I’m going to take a look at the surgical sites. It’ll be just like when they change your bandages.” She looked at Marci. “Ma’am, can you please step outside?”

“I’ll be right in the hallway,” she said to Theo, and she left the room as a new nurse came in with a tray of supplies.  

“How do the surgical sites feel? Are they hot or throbbing?”

“Don’t know,” he said. “I’m on pain medication.” And whiskey. And he was finding it a little hard to concentrate. Usually when they changed his bandages, he looked away, since it was hard to angle his head anyway. The maternity channel was still on - there was a diagram of a breast pump on the screen. “Everything’s cold. And hot.”

The doctor started cutting away the bandages. “Are you short of breath?”

“No.”

“Nauseous? Lack of appetite?”

“I haven’t had much appetite since I’ve been here,” Theo said. 

“The good news is that the chest wound is fine. But it looks like your shoulder wound is infected. Have you had anything to eat today?”

“Breakfast. Tofu. And rice. But not a lot. I barely touched it.”

“Uh-huh,” the doctor said, whispering orders to the nurses. She didn’t take her eyes off Theo’s shoulder. “And to drink?”

“Juice. And - and I might have just had a little whiskey. I wasn’t supposed to but now I’m sorta glad I did.” He didn’t know what it would be like to feel more miserable than he already was. 

“Are you an alcoholic?”

“Not yet,” Theo said. He wasn’t sure how serious he was. “It wasn’t - I haven’t since I got shot. Other than just now.”

“Okay,” the doctor said. She wasn’t judgmental. She sounded like she was just collecting information. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to start you on antibiotics and a fever reliever immediately, but we also need to take you to flush the wound.”

“Oh.” He understood all of the words separately, but not when they ran together in one sentence. “Can you tell Marci? She’s outside.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be kept informed.”

From there, he wasn’t sure the flow of events around him. He was lifted onto another bed and wheeled away. He didn’t know what room they brought him to, only that they needed an elevator to get there, where there were more people in scrubs with the matching caps.

The tube in his nostrils was replaced with a face mask. 

“Please don’t put the tube in my mouth,” he said. “It’s awful.”

“We’re only doing a local anesthetic and light sedation,” the doctor - or maybe the surgeon, someone else who sounded similar - said. “You’ll be awake, but you shouldn’t feel anything. If you feel like going to sleep, that’s normal. You don’t have to fight it.”

He felt the warmth of new fluids in his IV, and from there, he was lost. He definitely heard them talking, but not to him, and none of the words registered. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were opened or closed. There was a lot of steady beeping but it faded in and out. He felt like he was under water, but not in the way he felt when his lungs were filled up - he was just lying in a pool of water, or his limbs felt that way.

The cold pack on his forehead startled him into consciousness. 

“Hey kiddo,” his dad said. “Never a dull moment, huh?”

The voice was not jovial. Theo didn’t know where he was, but he wasn’t back in his normal room. His body was covered in a cold sweat even though his gown had been changed. It took all of his strength to try to remove his oxygen mask, but Linda was back, and she gently put it back in place.

“Nothing’s going in your throat,” she promised. “You just need a little more support right now. Do you think you can drink something?”

He had no idea, really. It seemed like a lot of work. She pushed a straw under the mask, and he managed to take a few sips.

“How about sucking on ice chips? Do you think you can do that?”

No. He just wanted to go back to sleep. 

“Just a few,” his mother said. Mom was here, too? Christ. “Give it a try.”

He gestured in a very general sense, and she fed him ice chips from a cup. The cold did feel good, but he couldn’t prevent himself from accidentally swallowing them. Every part of moving his body took extra work.

He stayed awake - maybe - but they either didn’t ask anything else of him or he didn’t listen, because nothing much happened. His mom was holding his hand, then she wasn’t. People, most of whom were in scrubs, came and went. He was aware that there was pain, but it didn’t bother him because he couldn’t connect with it. He would start shivering, and then they gave him something to calm it down, and then they were gone again, either because they floated away or he did. Theo would get snippets of conversation sometimes, but he usually just let them pass by. Whenever someone noticed he was awake, they tried to make him drink something. His dad even brought him a Slurpee, something he hadn’t had in years, to entice him.

“Guess who’s here?” his mother said, though she was only asking rhetorically. Theo didn’t know how long he had been awake, or where he was, much less who was out of his immediate vision. “Some people came all the way from Long Island to see you.”

“‘Kay,” was all he said to that as she moved out of the way for them. It was Uncle Timmy and Aunt Jeanie.

“Heya, bud,” Uncle Timmy said. Aunt Jeanie looked like she wanted to cry, or had been crying. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” He was surprised he had any voice at all. “Pretty shitty.”

It made his uncle smile. “We hope we’re not bothering you, but we had to see our favorite godson.”

“I ... think I’m your only godson.”

“We have tons of them,” Aunt Jeanie said. It was a lie. “But you’re our favorite.” 

He pulled himself together enough to smile for that.

“Everyone’s rooting for you,” Uncle Timmy said. “We would have swarmed the place but your mother said to hold off. We’ll have to throw a hell of a party once you get out of here.”

“I don’t care where or when it is as long as there’s booze,” Theo said, and they laughed. 

“We also need you to recover enough to cook for us,” Uncle Timmy said.

“Not gonna even respond to that.” Partially because he couldn’t lift his arm to flip him off.

“We were told to keep it short,” Aunt Jeanie said, as she leaned over to kiss him. “But if you can stay awake, Andy would like to see you.”

“Okay,” he said, hoping he could manage. “Hey!” he said to Andy as he entered, but it was more of a hoarse whisper than the shout that he wanted. 

Andy smiled but he looked tired and nervous. “Hey. I guess I don’t need to tell you how you look. Because you look like shit.”

Theo just nodded. He couldn’t disagree and he hadn’t seen himself. He was just glad he wasn’t currently shivering or dripping sweat. 

“The kids want to come, but obviously they can’t,” Andy said. “They made a video for you for whenever I got over here. I sent it to you, but I don’t expect you to see all of the things coming into your phone.”

“Way too much stuff.” Theo tried to sit up a little to see the video, but he couldn’t focus his eyes for the first couple minutes of it. It was the three kids, plus Jo holding Mary and making her little arm wave for the camera as they wished him well. “Tell them thanks.”

Andy could probably see that Theo was fading. “Hang in there.”

_ Easier said than done _ . Theo didn’t even remember what he said to Andy before he left. His mother came back - and maybe Foggy, Theo wasn’t sure - but he ignored whatever she had to say. He would deal with it later.

He wasn’t sure when later was, only that he was hot and cold at the same time, and despite his shivering, someone was sponging him down with cold water. He had ice packs under his arms and on his head. 

“What is that?” he had the presence of mind to say, sort of, in a slurred, weak voice as Linda gave him another injection.

“It’s a sedative to stop the shivering,” she said. “It should take effect in a few minutes.”

He wanted to ask what his temperature was, but thought it might not be a good idea. She had a calm face all of the time, and for the moment he couldn’t see anyone else, but he knew he was back in ICU. That was never good.

The next time he opened his eyes, there was a black shape moving back and forth in the room. His eyes took a long time to focus.

It was a nun. A G-ddamn nun. “Are you real?”

She had been pacing - or praying, or both - but she stopped and came to his side. “Yes.”

“Is - is this last rites? Because I don’t want them. I refuse.”

“That needs a priest,” she said. “And it would have happened hours ago. See?” She gestured to where he could not see at all, thank you very much. “Your fever’s down to 101. So no need to be dramatic. Now drink.” 

She brought another straw to his lips, and he did, because it didn’t seem like he could refuse, even though he very much wanted to. It took him a few minutes to put the pieces together. “You’re Matt’s mom.”

“Sister Margaret,” she said more gently than she had been acting now that the cup was emptied. “This was Matthew’s shift, but he was called away. He’s very sorry about it. It was definitely important.”

“He’s kicking the shit out of someone.”

“Probably.” She looked exasperated. “But he felt it was important not to leave you alone. I won’t put words in his mouth, but you matter a lot to him.”

“He matters a lot to me,” Theo replied. She was right - he was definitely better. His head was clearer than it had been in a while. “I don’t like what he does, but I know I can’t stop him, so I don’t try.”

Maggie - that was how Matt referred to her - eyed him knowingly. “I’m sure he gets enough of it from other people around him. If you push him, he will push back. He needs people to talk sense to him, but he needs people to support him, too. I know your family has been kind to him his whole adult life, and I’m grateful for that. But these last few months - I suspect your relationship has been good for him, because he has someone to come home to.”

Theo didn’t know what life had been like for Matt when he first became Daredevil, but he knew that it ended with Matt being buried alive under a collapsing building because he wanted to be with his murderous girlfriend. It was a low bar to clear. “I know the Church doesn’t approve of us.”

“The Church doesn’t approve of breaking vows of chastity and obedience either, and yet I have Matthew. He was never a mistake. He was the right choice.”

“You should tell him that,” Theo said. “He doesn’t talk much about you, but he says it’s because he doesn’t know how to feel about the whole situation.”

“He’s not alone in that,” Maggie replied. “I couldn’t be there for him when he needed me. That’s not easy to understand. Or forgive.”

“Family should always forgive.”

“It’s not as simple as you might think,” she said, and Theo supposed she knew better than him. “Thank you for whatever you’ve done for him. Now go back to sleep. Not everyone should keep his hours.”

He was too tired to disobey her.

  
  


In the morning - the kind where the sun was up - his temperature dipped below a hundred and he was released from ICU and brought back to his room. 

“Twenty-four hours on antibiotics always makes a huge difference,” his mother told him. “Remember when you had strep as a kid?”

The wound in his shoulder was not fully closed because they still continued to drain it, something that was less fun when there was no sedation. He wanted a shower more than anything else in the world, but he couldn’t sit up for very long, much less stand, and his chest and shoulder needed to stay dry, so he got a sponge bath from an unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) female nurse. She also washed his hair, which made him feel like a real person, even in a hospital gown. 

All he wanted to do was sleep, hugging Jonathan Edwards. His mother loved the name after she googled it. Most of the day went by while he slept. When he woke, it was past dinnertime. At least by now they were sending him regular vegetarian meals, but he didn’t have to eat any hospital food with all of the things Mom and Bess Mahoney had cooked for him. 

“Can I have my phone?” he asked when he was in the chair for the meal. Aside from exhaustion and his throbbing shoulder wound, he really felt much better.

“Oh.” His mother looked around, searching for it. “Why don’t we give it another day? You’ve been through a lot. You need rest.”

“Okay.” He supposed she had a point. “Can you hand me the remote?”

His mother stood there. “How about your iPod?”

Theo decided she was way too nervous. “Something happened, didn’t it? And it made the news?”

“Theodore - “

“ _ Mom _ ,” he said right back to her. “What happened?”

His mother sat down on the edge of the bed. She suddenly looked tired in a different way. “There’s been an arrest.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have absolutely nothing to say about this chapter, please at least give a shout-out to LachesisMeg for rushing to beta it so we wouldn't leave you hanging.

1 Week Earlier 

“Possible 10-65 in progress. Shots fired at 57th and 10th. Officers please respond.”

Brett looked up from his paperwork. Usually the radio was just noise in the background, the responsibility of uniforms on patrol, but the precinct was emptied out because of an early incident at Times Square involving a fight between three men in Spider-man costumes. Two of whom were definitely drunk, and the aftermath required asking the other costumed characters to scatter and a lot of milling about. It happened late enough in the day that people didn’t rush back to the precinct.

The radio always seemed louder when the office was nearly empty. There was chatter back as officers responded with the more exact address.

“I know that address,” Brett said to Stackert, the new detective from another precinct. The 15th was getting a reputation for being understaffed, what with all of the bribery and corruption scandals in the NYPD. “Shit, I know that address!”

“You want me to - “

“Just cover for me,” he said, running out the door as fast as he could get his jacket on. “Shit!” 

A 10-65 was code for armed robbery. It was past six, meaning the shop would be closed, but that didn’t mean no one was there, especially with Nelson, Murdock, and Page still camped out there. 

Brett could run all the way from the precinct - that’s how close it was. He could see from afar that the place was lit up and had two cop cars in front of it with their beams on. A patrolman stopped him before he got to the entrance.

“Sorry, Detective,” the patrolman said. “Gotta preserve the scene.”

They were working to cordon off the sidewalk from approaching onlookers with police tape. The patrolman pointed down, where Brett could clearly see a trail of blood from inside the store crossing the sidewalk and stopping a few feet into the asphalt of the street. He had to work to step around it and get into the shop, which was empty except for police. 

“Scene is clear?” he asked, as if it wasn’t obvious from the behavior of the officers, who weren’t actively looking for anyone. “Find anyone?”

“Empty when we got here, Detective,” another uniform said. “People in the bar nearby heard tires squeal. They might have had a car. But they didn’t get anything.”

The register was unopened. The place was otherwise a mess - the front window and glass of the front door were smashed open. Officers were photographing a bullet hole in the wall behind the counter, which had shattered the glass of the display case when it passed through. The interior was otherwise undamaged except for the massive metal shelving unit - the one that went up to the ceiling - that looked like it had been toppled across the floor. 

In front of the counter, there was a significant pool of blood that began the trail leading to the street. 

“There’s a makeshift office in the backroom,” Brett said, pointing to the door leading back there. “And a side exit to the alley.”

“All cleared. No sign of damage. Safe is untouched,” the patrolman said. “You know this place, Mahoney?”

Brett pointed to the picture of his father, mounted on a memorial plaque high on the wall above the back door. “My father died here, protecting the old owner. Inspired me to become a cop.”

“You know the current owner? Nelson, isn’t it?”

“Theo Nelson.” He looked down at the ominous amount of blood. “He’s the only one with a reason to be here alone after hours.” He took out his phone and called the Metro General’s police line, asking if a white male with possible gunshot wounds had been brought in recently.

“Yes,” was the reply from the stationed officer that Brett was both relieved and horrified to hear. “Came in through the ER. They prepped him and he just went in for surgery.”

“How’d he come in?”

“Some woman carried him in. Tiny thing. We got an officer trying to get her statement now. You want me to get her name?”

“No. I know her,” he said, and without bothering to explain himself, fled the crime scene, but not before getting a ride to Metro General. He clocked the driving time. Because they had to go down to the end of the Avenue, ride for several blocks, then turn down another avenue and go to the middle of it, with lights it was almost ten minutes. Someone running might be able to do it faster (it being Manhattan) but not while carrying someone who was probably bleeding out.

He knew the layout of the ER, and proceeded right past it toward the OR before he was stopped by a nurse. “I’m sorry - you can’t go in the operating room.”

“I’m looking for Theo Nelson. He was just admitted with multiple gunshot wounds. While male, long brown hair, mid-thirties.”

“Are you a relative?”

“We’re family.” He held up his badge. “I’m also police. I need to know if he was conscious when he came in.”

She corralled an ER doctor who was changing into new scrubs. He glanced at Brett’s badge and said, “Three wounds - an entrance and exit wound in his chest, perforating his left lung, which caused it to collapse. A second bullet wound in the shoulder, no exit wound. When he came in, he was choking on his own blood. We drained the pneumothorax site, intubated him, and sent him to the OR.”

“Was he conscious? Could he speak?”

“He was still moving but he did not appear to be aware of his surroundings. Even if he had been, he wouldn’t have been able to speak.”

“Does he have any medical allergies?” the nurse interrupted.

“Not that I know of. He’s been admitted here before for severe anemia related to his diet, so his records are in the hospital system. Do you know when he’ll be out of surgery?”

“We don’t have an estimate right now,” the nurse said. “But when he’s released into recovery, he probably won’t be conscious for some time. Is there anyone qualified to make medical decisions for him? Does he have a power of attorney?”

Theo was, aside from his ongoing problems with iron and protein, astonishingly healthy. He probably did not have power of attorney paperwork with anyone. “His parents are in Florida,” Brett said. “His brother is here in the city. What kind of decisions are we talking about?”

“Does he have a DNR or a living will?”

“No.” He could keep calm. He was a professional. “I’ll contact his brother and his parents. We’re still pursuing the people who did this, so I need to be kept updated on his condition.” He gave his card to the nurse. “Use the cell number.”

“If you want, there’s a family waiting area where we can provide you with updates.”

“I have to get back to work,” he said, though the offer was tempting. At least until Foggy arrived. But he could serve Theo better by catching these bastards. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t hard to find Jessica. There was an officer posted outside the room in the ER where she’d been herded into while another one carefully wiped her hands with swabs to collect DNA. Her jacket was already stuffed in a bag, and she was down to a tank top that was similarly soaked in Theo’s blood. “And I want that jacket back!” She looked right at Brett. “I didn’t get near the goons, so this is a waste of your time.”

“We’ll decide that. But we appreciate your cooperation,” he said. “I’m Detective Mahoney.”

“I’ve seen you around,” Jessica said. Brett knew of her by reputation, since her home address fell right outside the lines of his precinct, which meant other people handled her. He also knew she had the best lawyer in Manhattan, Jeri Hogarth, but that Foggy also had some dealings with her, and Matt had gotten her out of police custody with some smooth talking in Harlem. She looked him over. “That’s your dad’s picture on the wall of the deli, right?”

“Yes.” Of course. She was a private investigator, after all. She was good at noticing things. “He died when I was very young.”

“I need a new shirt,” she said, and someone got her spare scrubs. “Turn around.”

Brett and the other officer did so, and she changed into the scrubs so she could hand off her ruined top to be bagged with the rest of the evidence. 

“We’re going to need a more complete statement at the station,” he said as he got out his pad, “but since we’re still looking for these guys, can you give me a quick rundown?”

Jessica sighed. She looked used to this. “I was drinking at the bar two doors down from the deli where Nelson and Murdock have their new place with Karen Page. First I heard glass breaking, but I didn’t think anything of it. In fact, I checked that I hadn’t broken my own glass. Plus it’s Hell’s Kitchen. And then I heard shots.”

“How many?”

“Two. In quick succession. And it took me a second, but then I remembered, shit, my lawyers work in there, I should check it out. So I go down there, and the other Nelson - what’s his name, the chipmunk guy - “

“Theo.”

“Theo, Foggy’s brother, he’s on the floor, bleeding out. There’s a guy standing over him with a gun. A pistol. Small, no silencer, probably whatever was easiest to get on the black market.”

“What did he look like?”

“Tall, heavyset, light skin. Black ski mask over his face - the kind you buy at tourist stands in winter. Holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth but tiny ones. The other two guys had the same thing. Wearing black hoodies, jeans.”

“Were the other two people armed?”

“One had a bat. The other, I’m not sure about.” 

“Gender, skin color, body type?”

“Probably male. The other two were skinner, but with the hoodies it was hard to tell. Same with skin type - light, but not super light. Couldn’t tell if they were white, Hispanic, or mixed race. But not dark.”

“And what were they doing?”

“One of them was trying to open the register with his bat, which was stupid as hell. He wasn’t making any progress. The other one was yelling at him to get it done. Standing between them.” She added, “They didn’t seem like the most professional people. They positively freaked out when I came in, and I didn’t announce who I was.”

“What did you do?”

“I picked up the shelving unit and hurled it at them,” she said nonchalantly. “The guy with the gun fired at me but it went completely wild. Then I grabbed Theo and ran here. I’ve borrowed enough of his booze that I figured I owe him one, might as well get him to the hospital. Plus I would never hear the end of it from Foggy if his brother died in front me.”

Jessica sounded callous, but that couldn’t be all there was to it. She did seem a little concerned beneath that facade. But Brett had to push her. “How did you get him here?”

“I wrapped him in my coat and I ran.”

“You can carry him?”

“You haven’t heard about me? I’m ‘special.’” She made air quotes when she said it. “Do you want me to prove it?”

“I believe you.” He had heard stories. “How long did it take you to run to the hospital?”

“Five minutes or so.”

“See, because it took ten minutes for me to drive, because of the avenues,” he said. “And the blood trail ended in the street, but if you took the sidewalks, it should have continued. Do you have a vehicle?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Does this matter?”

“I have to account for every minute from the start of the robbery to his arrival or there will be questions. So - one more time - how did you get him here?”

She looked around, then said in a quiet voice, “I can jump really high, okay?”

“What?”

“Jump. High. Like, over buildings. All of the ones between the deli and the hospital. It’s three blocks and some of the buildings are old, so they’re short. They’re not skyscrapers. Skyscrapers are harder.”

Brett stopped writing in his book. “So you can fly.”

“I didn’t say fly. I said jump,” she corrected. “And land, you know, softly. So it’s a complicated form of jumping. I’ve never carried anyone that high up before, but - when I say he was bleeding out, I mean he was really bleeding out. He was coughing up blood. So - I took the shortest route. A straight line.”

Brett rubbed his forehead. “Okay, I’m just going to believe you.”

“Good move. You’re a fast learner, Officer.”

“And I’m grateful for your actions tonight. Theo and I are close. And I’m sure Foggy will thank you when I tell him.”

“I called Murdock the moment they wheeled him into surgery,” Jessica said. “Mostly to find out where he was. He was on the East Side with Foggy, bailing out some client who probably deserves to be in jail like they always do. They’re on their way.” 

That was a massive relief. “Do they know how serious it is?”

“I made it clear how fast they should get here.”

“Okay.” He needed a break himself, and his night was just beginning. “I need to get back to the crime scene and put out an APB for these guys. An officer will escort you to the station for a complete statement.”

“I need to call my lawyer,” she said. “Not Nelson, obviously.”

“It’s just a statement, but you have a right to have an attorney present.” He wasn’t going to argue with her. She knew her way around the police. “Tell the officers if you think of anything else relevant. And again - thank you for your bravery tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I hope Theo’ll be okay,” Jessica said. “If he’s willing to put up with Matt’s shit, he must be a super nice guy.”

So she knew that much. It wasn’t surprising. And she hadn’t said anything incriminating, but it was pretty clear that she called Matt to ask why Daredevil hadn’t stopped the robbery. Brett could only imagine the guilt Matt was putting himself through for not being there, and the terror that might be unleashed when he arrived if he didn’t need to stay with Foggy.

He left Jessica with another officer to finish up and take her to the station. He needed to return to the crime scene and start giving out orders. There were no security cameras in the shop, but there were CCTV cameras on the street that might have picked up something. It was probably too dark for a license plate, but certainly, the make and model of the getaway car. 

Despite his relative youth, Brett had some stature in the police department, particularly in Hell’s Kitchen. He’d collared both Castle and Fisk. He’d survived a second run-in with Castle, which no one else seemed to have done. People thought he went easy on Daredevil, but they tried to keep that to themselves. So when he put out an APB, they listened, and cop cars were flying around the city. Some of the people at the station even knew of his connection to Nelson’s Fine Meats and had seen the plaque on the wall. Since the shop had always cultivated a good relationship with cops, and catered some of their smaller events, this goodwill wasn’t hard to take advantage of. 

He walked around the crime scene again. They had succeeded in not messing up any of the splatter from Theo’s blood on the floor and wall - presuming it was all Theo’s blood - and someone else had already photographed the few halfway distinct tread marks. The robbers must have stepped in the blood as they fled out the front door. They either didn’t know about the back door or didn’t know if it was unlocked. The de-facto law office was untouched, but the safe was still dusted for prints, as was the register, which had taken a beating with the baseball bat but still held strong. In the dining room, the business laptop was still open but lapsed to screensaver behind a password lock, and a glass sat beside it with just enough whiskey to coat the bottom. Brett put on gloves and flipped through the record books and time cards. Theo must have been doing payroll. He recorded the names of Theo’s three employees. The two lunch people he didn’t know that well because they worked irregular, part-time shifts. Deon was the kid just out of juvie that Theo hired a few months back. The Nelsons didn’t have the usual hesitation with employing ex-cons. 

“Anyone found keys to the register?” he asked the forensics people. There was no reason for robbers to steal them, especially since they clearly weren’t used, but people did all kinds of thing when they were in a rush. 

Detective Stackert arrived and asked, “Why is the blood in front of the register? They would want him to open it before they shot him, right?”

Brett realized he had no answer to that question. “You’re right.” If they got the keys off Theo before he was shot, they wouldn’t have needed the bat. “I’ll go back to the hospital, see if the keys are bagged with his clothes.” He tore off one of the pieces of paper from his notebook. “The names of his employees.  Found numbers for two out of three. I’ll get alibis from the law office.”

He needed to get back to the hospital. He felt guilty enough for leaving it in the first place. The officer there had bagged the remains of Theo’s clothes and the contents of his pockets, including his plastic watch, now snipped apart. Why did ER docs always cut wristbands? Was it so hard to undo the clasp on a watch?

Theo’s phone had a four-digit code lock. His lockscreen was a picture of Sadie. His wallet was untouched except for the removal of his driver’s license by the EMTs, which was also found in the bag. And down there were the master keys, which probably included the register key. The thieves hadn’t even managed to look in his pockets before Jessica showed up. This made less and less sense.

Brett found Foggy and Karen in the family waiting area outside the OR. Foggy was holding a clipboard full of forms. His hands were shaking, and Karen was trying to talk him through it. 

“Hey,” Brett said softly.

Foggy finally noticed he was there. “Hey.” He looked shook. “Um, they’re asking me to make some decisions.”

“Did you call your parents?”

“Yeah I called my parents!” Foggy said. He didn’t mean to be mean. “I couldn’t let someone else see it on the news and call them first! They’ll be taking the first flight out tomorrow. But that’s  _ tomorrow _ .”

Brett pulled up a chair. “Where’s Matt?”

“Where do you think?” Foggy was too stressed and too much of a lawyer to answer that, even though he very much did. “He’s doing his thing.”

Which was probably for the best. If the guys they were looking for were still in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt would find them. But they probably weren’t.

“Does Theo have any food allergies? No, right? Because he basically doesn’t eat food?” Foggy asked, as if Brett knew. “They want me to make a decision about life support.”

“Does he need life support?”

“How is it a decision? I don’t understand it. Because if he needs it to be alive, yes, of course. Why would you say no? But I still have to decide and sign a form.” 

“They do it if they have to stabilize his vitals and they’ve tried everything else,” Karen said. “They’re just covering their bases.”

“I know what covering bases are! I’m a lawyer!” Foggy immediately lowered his voice. He appeared to deflate as he looked at Brett. “I’m sorry. I just - I don’t know how to make these decisions.”

“You want life support,” Karen said with some authority. Maybe she was faking it or maybe she had some experience from somewhere, but it got Foggy past it, and he was able to sign and pass the clipboard off to the waiting nurse. “He’s going to be fine.”

Foggy put his head in his hands, and Karen put a hand on his shoulder and looked at Brett.

“Where’s Marci?” Brett asked.

“On her way. She said she was going to stop back at their apartment and get some things for Foggy. Do you have any suspects?”

“If we did, I wouldn’t be here,” he said, though he wasn’t sure that was true. He might have taken a break to check on Theo and Foggy. “You know I have to ask where you guys were today.”

Karen just nodded. “Foggy went to Riker’s to prep a client for court, and Matt and I went to interview witnesses for a separate case. We all met up at that Indian place on Lex and 27th - there’s four or five of them. I forget which one. I have the receipt.”

“Did you go to the shop at all?”

She shook her head.

“Did you intend to?”

“We were talking about bringing takeout back for Theo, since those places have vegan options, but that would have been a surprise. And we had to dash anyway, because we got a call on the office line to go to the 23rd precinct and meet a new client. We were there until Matt got the call from Jessica, and then we came here.”

He didn’t bother making notes. “Has anyone threatened Theo recently? Has he discussed anything like that with you?”

Karen shook her head. Foggy was out of it.

“Have you seen anyone suspicious around the store?”

“No.”

“Do you know if Theo was expecting anyone tonight?”

She shrugged. “We have separate businesses and schedules. I only know about it when it’s relevant.”

“The shop closes at six. Is Theo usually there past six?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I mean, there’s plenty of nights where he’s doing paperwork until late. Matt has a better idea of his real schedule.”

“Are you guys normally there past six?”

“We try not to be, but it happens. If he locks up, we can stay until whenever we want, but we have to leave through the side exit. That locks automatically.”

“Did either of you talk to Theo today?”

“No,” Foggy answered. He picked his head up and wiped his face. “We were going to text him about food, but we didn’t get to it. If we had only - “

“Hey. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this, okay?” Brett said. “If you had been there, you might have been shot, too. Don’t focus on it.”

“What am I going to tell people?”

“That Theo’s in the hospital and that you can’t answer questions right now,” Brett explained. “And that people shouldn’t call you or your parents. Just head that right off. You don’t owe anyone answers that you don’t have. If people don’t shut up, just stop checking your phone.” He stood. “I have to get back to work. I’ll be back later.”

“Sure,” Foggy said. “Thanks, Brett.”

“You take care,” he said, because he couldn’t think of what else to say, even though he was trained for this sort of situation. 

He went to the station to follow up on the search, but so far no one had seen or heard anything, other than the gunshots and the sound of tires screeching. Camera footage only showed the getaway car as having a dark color, no plates visible, no significant markings. 

Brett was returning to his office with coffee when he heard a knock on his window, and he opened it to see Daredevil on the fire escape.

“Tell me you have good news.”

“They’re not locals,” Daredevil said. “They’re gone.”

“Anything else?”

“They smoked before the robbery,” he said. “Two of them have a habit, one of them doesn’t. Marlboro Reds, unfiltered. And weed. Cheap stuff, smoked in a joint.”

“Anything else?”

“One of the back tires of the car is low. They probably aren’t the owners. There’s not enough of that air freshener on their clothing. You’re looking for a vehicle with a ton of it.”

Brett didn’t ask how he knew that. He knew better than to ask these sorts of questions. “Is that it?”

“If there was more, I would tell you.” Daredevil disappeared up the fire escape, sounding frustrated with himself. Brett knew the feeling.

After midnight, he had to call off the more extended search. Without plates, they couldn’t make any headway on finding the car, and Hell’s Kitchen was quiet because of the continued police presence. He was closing up when he got a text from Foggy.

_ Out of surgery. ICU, Room 184 _ .  _ Condition still critical _ .

Brett was dragging when he got there. Karen and Matt were in the hallway outside the entrance to the ward. Karen was in the same clothes, Matt was in casual clothes. 

“Still on duty, Detective?” Matt said.

“My shift was supposed to end hours ago,” Brett said. “So?”

“He made it through surgery but he’s on a ventilator,” Karen said. “His blood pressure keeps dropping, but they get it back up. They need that to stabilize before anything else can be done.”

“Marci’s with Foggy,” Matt added. “He says he’s gonna stay here until his parents arrive, but that’s not until after noon. So we’ll get some sleep and come back. Theo’s under sedation until they’re sure he can breathe on his own.”

“You guys need anything?” Brett asked, not quite sure what he would provide if they said they did.

“We’re good, thanks,” Karen said. “I’m gonna go, if that’s okay?” She looked to Matt for confirmation, and he nodded. 

Matt waited until she was at the elevator to speak. “She said he looks bad.”

“How does he sound?”

“It was close,” he said. “It was very close. He almost died a couple times on the table. Foggy doesn’t know that and I’m not going to tell him.”

“Sounds wise,” Brett said. “You know anyone who would do this to him?”

“Theo? Enemies? He’s even friends with his exes.”

“You don’t think someone was looking to get at one of you guys?”

Matt considered it, fiddling with the handle of his cane. “We’re usually not there late. It would have been a bad time to catch us. But I can’t rule out the possibility.”

“If it was a robbery, it was a pretty shabby one,” Brett said. “They didn’t even get his keys. They would have been hammering away at the register all night if Jones hadn’t caught them in the act. But he probably does have too much cash in there.”

“A lot of places open late pack heat,” Matt said. “But he’s not open late. Still, if it was a robbery, they were rolling the dice that he’d be there, and be unarmed.”

“His employees?”

“I don’t think any of them have it in them,” Matt said. “Cathy’s an NYU student, Greg is an aspiring actor, and Deon seems to actually like working there. And he has a record, so he knows the stakes. And that you’d be immediately looking at him for it.”

“If you have any theories of your own, I’m all ears.”

“Two shots to center mass,” Matt said. “One went wild, so he probably twitched. Either they were horribly inept or they weren’t there for the money.”

“You would have made a great cop,” Brett said, “if you’d decided to stay on the right side of the law.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Detective.”

Brett knocked politely on the open door to Theo’s room. Foggy was in the chair beside the bed, holding Theo’s hand, as Marci draped a blanket over his shoulders. 

“Just wanted to say hi,” Brett whispered, unsure if Theo could hear them. He wasn’t responsive. He was breathing through a tube and his skin was positively grey. Frankly, he looked dead.

“Thanks,” Foggy half-whispered back. “Any news?”

“Matt thinks they’re long gone. So do I. But that doesn’t mean we won’t catch them,” he assured them. “Your parents need a ride from the airport tomorrow?”

“Karen’s going to do it,” Marci said. 

“We could ask family, but I don’t want to open that can of worms,” Foggy explained. “I said he wasn’t allowed visitors.”

“Good move. My mom’s probably going to want to come anyway, but I’ll try to head her off. Keep me posted, all right?”

“Same,” Foggy said, and no one had any energy for more conversation, so Brett left. 

It was past midnight when he made it home, but his mom was up anyway. The TV was on in the background of the den while she stared at her phone. “You catch ‘em?”

“No, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Not yet.”

“Family’s blowing up.”

“If you want, you can tell them I can’t make a statement. Which I can’t.” 

His mother looked up at him. “Did you see him?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“It’s that bad?”

There was never any reason to sugarcoat things for her. She always saw right through it. “It’s real bad. Don’t go unless someone gives you the all-clear, okay? They’ve got enough to deal with.”

“They’re gonna need food. If they all stay by his side they can’t be eating hospital crap.”

“Theo’s sedated, but I’m sure they’d appreciate your home cooking.” 

“You get some sleep,” his mother ordered. “You got a long day ahead of you.”

  
  


Brett had regular shift hours the next day, starting in the morning. He wasn’t entirely surprised when the captain called him into her office.

“I know Stackert’s new, but I want you to lean on him,” she said. “I know how close you are to the Nelsons. You can’t work this case and be this case at the same time.”

“I’m fine, Chief,” he lied. Emotionally he was holding up, but he was very tired. And they were losing time. 

They chased down the employees of Nelson’s Fine Meats, none of whom had any helpful information, and all of whom had legal representation in the form of Matt Murdock. To a lawyer, there was no such thing as a ‘casual police interview.’ But it did check off some boxes, as no one had their own set of keys, or knew the code for the safe, and they all had alibis.

Brett didn’t want to bother Foggy with calls, but he got a text from him around noon, saying that Theo was rallying, and his blood pressure seemed to be stabilizing. His condition was still listed as critical, but the doctor was encouraging. What Foggy had been through the night before, when Theo  _ wasn’t _ rallying, Brett couldn’t even imagine.

He took a late lunch, which he spent entirely at the hospital, nibbling on a sandwich as he went. Theo’s parents had just arrived, and they were trying to convince Foggy to go home, or at least get some sleep in their apartment once they kicked out the Air BnB renters. Eventually, they made enough of a commotion that they were all kicked out of ICU by the nurse except for Anna, who was allowed to stay with Theo. This led to a lot of semi-arguing in the hallway about who was going where, and when people were going to eat and sleep and when they were going to be at the hospital in time for the surgeon to make his report and the floor doctor to decide on Theo’s status. Karen did the honors of escorting Foggy, who was still in yesterday’s suit, out of the building. 

Brett went back to the station and turned to a pile of print-outs from the tip line on his desk. “Anything decent? And not pointing to a vigilante?” He really didn’t need to be sifting through fake psychics and people who wanted to frame the Avengers for everything. 

“A couple people said they saw a flying woman leave the scene,” Stackert said. “And then there’s this.”

Brett looked down at the sheet.

TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT DUNCAN NELSON. HE IS THEO NELSON’S COUSIN. VIOLENT EX-CON, SOME FAMILY BAGGAGE ABOUT WHO INHERITED THE BUTCHER SHOP. ALIBI PROBABLY WON’T HOLD UP. 

And it gave his name, address, and place of work.

“G-d damnit.”

“You know him?”

“It’s our guy, or it’s a guy someone’s trying hard to frame.” He threw it back down on the pile. “I don’t know which one I’d prefer.”


	8. Chapter 8

The regional office for Andy Nelson’s construction company was in Long Island, but the current jobsite was in Brooklyn. Brett didn’t take a squad car. He didn’t flash his badge at the temporary fence, just asked for directions to the office. He was handed a hard hat and pointed to a trailer with the company name and logo on it. Even though Brett hadn’t made a lot of noise, Andy came out to greet him, which he did by means of hug.

“Good to see you,” Andy said. “Better times, huh?”

“Better times,” Brett replied. 

“You see him? Foggy told us not to come.”

“As of a few hours ago, yeah.”

“How bad is it?”

“He’s better,” Brett said. “They might change his status to stable tonight, depending on how things go, but he’s going to be on the ventilator for at least a day or two.”

Andy, predictably, looked generally horrified at the situation. “Did you see Uncle Eddie and Aunt Anna?”

“They’re as can be expected,” Brett said. “I think things will catch up with them and they’ll set up a schedule of shifts at the bedside with Foggy and Matt, but for now, everyone’s arguing over who gets to hold his hand.”

“Aw, fuck,” Andy said. “I wish I could do _something_.”

“Everybody’s in the same boat on that.”

He nodded. “So what are you doing out here?”

“This is going to be awkward, but I need alibis from family. And from your employees.”

“From family? Are you serious?”

“Have to ask the family. It’s terrible but it’s procedure,” Brett said. “Did you tell anyone here?”

“I got a lot of questions when I came in the door because people saw the Nelson name on the news, so I made a general announcement during the lunch break. Everyone knows that there was a robbery, and that my cousin Theo was shot, and he needs prayers. That sort of thing.”

Brett took out his notebook. “Mind if I use your office for this? It’s gotta be one at a time.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Andy wanted to be helpful. He was desperate to be helpful. He showed him in and cleared off his desk. “You want coffee?”

“Coffee would be great. But first, where were you yesterday?”

“Here.”

“Until when?”

“Two shifts. I’m here 8 to 4. Then I went home to take over the house and heat up dinner so Jo could go to Collin’s soccer game. She hasn’t been able to get out of the house much. She came in with Collin around, um, 5:30 or 6, and then we were home for the rest of the night.”

He jotted it down even though he didn’t really need to. “Do people stay on site past 4?”

“Legally, only if me or another foreman is here. But sometimes people shoot the shit for a few minutes, maybe half an hour.” He got Brett coffee from his personal machine. “They’re not supposed to smoke weed or drink on site, but sometimes they do. I don’t say anything unless it’s a problem.”

“Get any visitors last night? Any weird calls?”

“No. I didn’t know anything until I saw it on the family channel, and Jo turned on the news. We stayed up pretty late on our phones. We tried to keep it from the kids, but they’re smart. So we told them Theo was in the hospital because he fell.” He puttered around nervously. “Do you have any leads?”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” Brett said. He looked at the desk - Andy had multiple pictures of his kids at different ages, and his parents, and one with his brother that wasn’t in a proper frame yet. It was taped to the wall. “Can you send them in?”

“Yeah, sure. Any order?”

“I don’t want to disrupt their work. Whatever order’s best for them.”

And so it began. Most of them had never met Theo and never heard of him before today, or last night on the news. They knew that someone in the Nelson family had a deli or catering company because they got food from there over the years, but only a few recognized Theo by photo.

“Oh, yeah,” said a young guy named Miguel. “I didn’t know his name was Theo.”

“You’ve been to the butcher shop?”

“No. I um, met him in a bar in Brooklyn. It must have been - like a year ago? We hung out for a few hours. That was it.”

“Let me guess. He said his name was Ted?”

Miguel flushed. “Yeah, maybe.”

Brett kept his face neutral. “And you haven’t spoken to him since?”

“No. It was that one time.”

He had an alibi, so that was the end of that. Duncan was either busy or intentionally putting himself at the end of the line, so it was just people who didn’t know Theo, and then - 

“Shit,” Brett said as a man with a black beard walked in. “And you are?”

“Pete,” Frank Castle said as he took the chair across from him. 

“Pete.”

“Yup.”

“Okay, Pete.” Brett could do this dance. “How long have you been working here?”

“About six months.”

“Before last night, had you ever met Theo Nelson?”

“No,” Frank said.

“Have you ever been to Nelson’s Fine Meats?”

“No.”

“Where were you last night?”

“Went home to my girlfriend’s on the Upper East Side,” Frank said. “Stopped for groceries on the way. I went to sleep around eleven.”

“Can she corroborate that alibi?”

“No. She was out all night. Came in after I was already asleep. She tries not to wake me but she always does.” He added, “I got a receipt from the grocery store if you want an exact time, but it might be in the trash. And there’s security cameras in the store.”

“But there’s no other way to confirm your alibi?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He closed his book and put his pen in his pocket. “What are you doing here, Frank?”

“Working construction,” Frank said. 

“What do you think of your boss?”

Frank shrugged. “Good guy. Doesn’t ask a lot of questions, pays cash. Other than that I think the company’s pretty above board. He tolerates a little bit of shit from his employees, but not a lot. I’ve been at worse sites.”

“Have you ever met Theo Nelson?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been to the shop?”

“No. I’ve been told that the Nelsons aren’t huge fans of me. I haven’t seen or spoken to Nelson - I mean the lawyer - since the trial.”

“But you’ve spoken to Matt?”

“Seen him around.” 

He had reason to be deliberately vague about that, Brett supposed. “Does Theo know about you?”

“Karen said she was going to tell him ‘cuz they were trying to guess who she was seeing at work and she was tired of lying. I said go ahead. This was a month or two ago. She said it went fine.”

“She tell you about Theo?”

“She said he’s too nice for his own good.”

“Have you talked to Matt about him?”

“Does Matt seem like a guy who would talk about his personal life?” was Frank’s answer.

“Fair enough,” Brett said. “You make anyone for this?”

“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours and you’re out here asking questions, so I assume that you do.” 

“Not what I asked.”

“Andy’s a nice guy,” Frank said. “His brother’s a shithead.”

“How so?”

“He can pull stuff the rest of us would get fired for, because he knows Andy can’t fire him. He shows up late, he drinks, he smokes weed.”

“Hard drugs?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t socialize too much,” Frank explained. “He’s got a little posse, but they’re punks. They don’t have anything serious in them. They just want someone to hang with so they don’t have to work as hard. It’s very disruptive to the worksite, as a manager might say, but Andy doesn’t do shit about it because he’s scared of him.”

“How do you know that?”

“Duncan is the big brother who went to prison. I don’t believe all of his stories, but he’s got some real whoppers. There’s definitely a reason he didn’t make parole. Then he gets out and he’s taking orders from his little brother. Neither of them like it but neither of them can do anything about it. It’s a bad position for both of them.”

“You think he’s in a gang?”

“Not here. He definitely was in prison, but that might have just been prison survival. He went in there as a kid,” Frank said. “He’s not as tough as he thinks he is, but he wants to be tough. And he wants to be in charge. That’s gonna come to a head sooner or later.”

“He talk about Theo?”

“No. But he goes into the city a lot. Never has enough cash for all the things he wants to do. Always complaining about prices, stuck-up women, that sort of thing.”

“Do people from work go in with him? He got any special friends?”

“He definitely has other friends. Most of the people here, they don’t go into the city unless they have a reason, because it’s so expensive. Also, he’d be dumb as hell to put a crew together for a job from the worksite, especially since he’d be hitting his own cousin, and he works for his brother. That’s too much family shit right there. But on the other hand, he’s also a little dumb in the first place.”

Brett took out his pen. “Anyone I should look at?”

Frank gave him the names of three people who might know more about Duncan’s activities. “One other thing,” he said. “It rained last week. Hard. We were inside, but the worksite was a mess. It’s all over our shoes.” He stretched out his leg to expose the sole of his shoe. “I can’t even walk in the apartment with them. I have to remove them and carry them in to a special mat.”

“And?”

“And Duncan got in late today. And his shoes were spotless.”

Well, shit. “Thanks for your time, Pete.”

“Good luck, Detective.”

  


Brett talked to the guys Frank named, but they didn’t give him anything, and he had to be somewhat circumspect about it. Finally, Duncan showed his face, and Brett got up and hugged him like the family that he was, and commiserate over this awful event. Brett had only met Duncan on a few occasions, but their lives were full of mutual connections. 

Brett went into extra detail about Theo’s condition, watching Duncan’s face. Duncan seemed legitimately distressed and asked several times if Theo was going to live. It definitely sounded like he wanted him to.

“If he stabilizes, he should be okay,” Brett said. “But he’s down a lung right now, and the hit to the shoulder might have severed some nerves. He’s got a long road ahead of him.”

“I know there’s nothing I can do, but is there anything I can do? They said not to even text him.”

“He’s not conscious, so he’s not at his phone. But I suppose you can mail him a card. They gotta go in the apartment to feed his cat, so they’ll check his mail.”

“That cat hates me.”

“That cat hates everybody,” Brett said. “Except Theo. Or so I’ve been told. I’ve never actually seen her around him. You know she was some kind of super feral stray? Theo took her because she was at a shelter where they still put cats down when they’re not adopted and she was next in line. That was his reason. He’s a butcher and he can’t stand to see anything die.”

Duncan took Theo’s mailing address from Brett, making a note on his phone. He’d been to the apartment several times, crashing there or visiting, but that didn’t mean he had the mailing information. 

“So you’ve gotten to know Theo?”

“Andy’s still close with him. Wants to be closer, but he’s got kids way out in the Boondocks,” Duncan said. “They were tight as kids. Theo was a skinny nerd, so he followed Andy around. Andy was protective of him.”

“I think it went both ways,” Brett said. He remembered it being more of a social partnership. “When your parents moved out to Long Island, it was like someone had died. That was the mood. I think they waited until Andy was off to college and the market was right to sell the place in Hell’s Kitchen, so Andy wouldn’t have to switch high schools. And then he was at City College and Theo was out in Brooklyn.”

“I thought he was going to be a big scientist.”

“Yeah, we all did. But Uncle Eddie was thrilled when he decided to work full-time at the shop. I think Aunt Anna tried to talk him out of quitting his engineering job in Jersey, but he couldn’t take sitting in a cubicle all day.”

“I never would have figured him for it, but he’s a hell of a cook,” Duncan said. “Too bad he can’t appreciate his own food.”

“When he converted, my mom just about had a fit. She couldn’t believe he thought he was too good for her cooking - her words, not his. But he was so polite about it that he won her over and she learned to made a lot of vegan desserts.”

“I was at your dad’s funeral,” Duncan said. “Andy wasn’t. Our parents debated about whether he was old enough to be exposed to that sort of thing. But I was.”

“I don’t remember much of it.”

“I remembered that I’d never seen so many cops in the same place at the same time. Between them and us, they had to move it to a bigger church.” He looked at Brett. “I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot,” Brett said. “So where were you last night?”

“You’re shitting me.”

“It’s procedure and you know it. I need your whereabouts.”

“Got off work at four, went to a bar near my parents’ house, then home all evening.”

“Can your parents confirm that?”

“Yes. If you wanna bother them.”

“What time did you leave the bar?”

Duncan looked off into the distance. “Probably 5:30. Maybe 6.”

Brett scribbled in his notebook. “I’m gonna need the name of the bar.”

“Fuck you, Brett.”

“You want to be checked off or not?”

“Okay,” Duncan said, “but I’m not a regular.” He gave a place name in Long Island. He knew the intersection but not the exact address. Unhappy with the change in tone of the interview, Duncan was happy to leave.

“How often do you empty your trash?” Brett asked Andy on the way out.

A look of concern passed over Andy’s face. “Not often. We’ve got the whole dumpster for a reason.”

“If it’s time to empty it, I want you to call me first,” Brett said, and Andy nodded. He didn’t put up any fight. 

When Brett had a more circumspect chance, he looked at Andy’s shoes. They were filthy. Not like Duncan’s, which were clean.

  


“We got anyone else good for this?” Brett asked Stackert, who had been going through the other tips. He also had a list of the major suppliers that the butcher shop did business with. 

“Not particularly,” Detective Stackert said. “But it could have been a random robbery gone wrong. He handled a lot of cash and he stayed there alone a lot of nights. That’s not a hard pattern to notice. If I had to pick a place in Hell’s Kitchen ... ”

“That could be the case,” Brett said. “I sure hope it is. In the meantime, I gotta upset a lot of family members.”

“You want me to do it?”

“I’ll get in the door faster. We just have to make it look like we’re not specifically looking at Duncan,” Brett said. “Let’s go burn some bridges.”

  


Over the next few days, Brett burned a lot of them. 

Family members loved Brett the cousin. They did not love Brett the cop. Sometimes he took Stackert with him. Sometimes he just said he was in the area, following some leads, and while he was out on Long Island, he was going to stop in and say hi. He did actually do that at Andy’s, because he didn’t suspect Andy but Andy’s kids were adorable and Jo was just happy to have an update on Theo, who was still out of it while his lung healed. He was not allowed visitors who were not immediately family, something everyone seemed to take as a personal insult, but they didn’t express their anger at Brett - just _to_ Brett, since he was available and Foggy was not. 

“You’re gonna catch these punks, right?” Uncle Timmy said. Brett made it a point to come over when Duncan was at work and bring Jimmy Stackert, who got a tour of the place from the very welcoming Aunt Jeanie. 

“I’m going to do my best,” he said. Both of Duncan’s parents backed up his alibi, but he wondered if they would do it on the stand.

“If I murdered someone, my mother would swear on a stack of bibles that I was innocent,” Stackert said later, in the car.

“My mom would throw me under a bus,” Brett replied. 

“Different types of parenting, I guess.”

They didn’t have any other good leads, though they did end up in Harlem talking to gun runners, but the make of the weapon that they got from the bullets in the wall and ceiling was extremely common. 

“I didn’t have nothing to do with it,” Turk Barrett said before Brett got a single question out.

“That’s not the most innocent way to start this out,” Brett said. 

“Whatever. I can’t have Luke Cage up in my shit again this week.”

“This week?”

“Yeah,” Turk said. As he currently had no place of business that Brett knew about, they met in his apartment, but it was hard to tell if it was a wreck because Luke had been there or because it was Turk’s place. “He took my whole stash of weed and flushed it down the toilet. Didn’t even care that it clogged the drain. Why’d he do that? That shit’s medicinal.”

“So you’re telling me that Luke Cage paid you a personal visit, asking about the robbery at Nelson’s Fine Meats?”

“You didn’t hear that from me,” Turk said. “I get enough flack from him already.”

Brett decided to use this as an opportunity to visit Harlem’s Paradise. He had never been - never had the courage for that sort of place - and he’d heard lots of stories. If he saw an opening, he was going to take it, so he called, and the receptionist very politely told him he could come by whenever he wanted and Mr. Cage would be happy to talk with him.

“I heard rumors about this guy,” Stackert said.

“Rumors? He was in the New Yorker. In their puff piece section.”

“I mean about his current activities. They call him the new boss of Harlem.”

Brett gave him a look. He’d heard the rumors too, but Jimmy Stackert was just about the whitest guy he had ever met - mustache and all - so it sounded funny coming out of his mouth. 

It was afternoon when they came by, before official club hours, so there was no one around but cleaning staff and the guy who showed them in - the guy who screamed “I’m trying to look professional but I have a record.” He was reading _Things Fall Apart_ by Chinua Achebe at the bar when they entered, and he stuffed the paperback in his jacket and showed them upstairs, to Luke’s completely gangster office. 

“Detectives,” Luke said. He welcomed them and Brett did his absolute best not to seem star-struck, even though he completely was, and they exchanged pleasantries.

Luke understood why they were here. “I’ve known Theo on and off for a few years.”

“Really?”

“I worked at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen before I moved to Harlem. Remember the one that exploded?”

“Yeah. That was you?”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t blow up my own bar,” Luke said. “Let’s just say other people were involved and leave it at that. And no, I did not try to collect insurance. Should have, but I was on the run. Then I went to work at the barbershop, and the rest is history.”

Theo did go to bars, but - Luke Cage? Really? “Did you meet him as Theo or did you meet him as Ted?”

“What kinda question is that?” 

_So yes, definitely_. Fine, whatever. Brett could be discreet. Stackert didn’t know what they were talking about and he wasn’t going to find out. “When did you hear about the robbery?”

“I was at the end of a text messaging chain. Danny Rand called me from India to tell me the news, as if I’m still a cop or something.”

Brett had heard rumors that Luke and Rand were friends, though he wasn’t sure of the connection, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “So you’re all in the Theo fan club?”

“I guess so? I mean, he’s a good guy. And Danny says he’s a good cook. So yeah, I might have talked to Turk. He’s got a long history of criminal associations in Hell’s Kitchen, among other places, and I got a history with him. I went and asked some questions.”

“Did you put that hole in the wall over his couch?”

“Did he say I did that?”

Luke didn’t have any real information for them, and Brett refused to give Luke details about Theo’s condition, so their time came to a quick end, but Luke was sure as hell nice about it. And he was definitely up to _something_ , but Brett could only hope it wasn’t his business to find out what.

  


Foggy texted with the good news that Theo was off the ventilator and awake, and the bad news that for the moment, he remembered nothing of the robbery, but the doctors said that he might be confused after so much trauma and several days of sedation. That was fine with Brett. It took the pressure off him to pester Theo into a conversation he wasn’t ready for, and from Jessica’s description of the attackers, Theo might not be able to identify them, anyway. 

Of course, Brett had to talk to Theo through Foggy - as his brother, lawyer, and emotional bodyguard all in one. But it was probably better than Murdock, who had a much fiercer temper. Theo was spacey at best. If they had been recording, Brett would have needed a mic to pick up his voice. But Theo wanted to help, of course, and he pushed himself through the questioning designed to jog his memory, which didn’t provide any leads but managed to confirm Brett’s suspicion that this was not an ordinary robbery. He just wasn’t going to tell Theo that, and Foggy didn’t seem wise to it, at least not yet. 

“Keep his phone away from him,” Brett told Foggy. 

“I know, I know.” Foggy had set up a special channel on Whatsapp for updates about Theo and banned discussion on the regular channel. He tried to ban discussion of the crime, but he had no way to enforce that. “I’m not going to ask you if you have any leads because you’re not going to tell me.”

“So you were paying attention in law school. And from what I remember you were drunk about half the time.”

“It was more like a third,” Foggy said. “I had to make it fair for everyone else.”

Brett rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”


	9. Chapter 9

Brett spent the next few days continuing to follow-up on different business contacts. Anna and Edward sat down with him for an extensive interview of the history of the business - everything about its history, its finances, and their partners, customers, and suppliers over the years. He asked for - and received - the password to the business computer. 

While Brett was not recording in a formal interview, Aunt Anna said, “So, there was this loan.” And Brett learned all about the emergency situation created by Fisk, and Red Lion Bank, and the blackmail used against Foggy, and the deal made with Tower not to prosecute. 

“Tower’s a very reasonable guy,” Brett said.

“And Foggy can be very persuasive,” she said. “We know it was wrong. We didn’t fully understand it when we signed the paperwork, because you know, it’s one of these things everyone does and no one pursues unless the FBI is trying to nail them for some other crime. Like getting mobsters on tax evasion. We’re not mobsters, and we report our taxes accurately. So when the loan officer said, ‘No one ever looks at this paperwork’ we believed it. We were so desperate - “

He put his hand up. “You don’t have to explain it. Fisk’s ability to corrupt was like a superpower. The first time he was arrested, I found out most of my precinct was dirty - even high-ranking detectives I respected and looked up to. It’s in the past. Theo paid off the loan, and Tower has better things to do.”

They did take a careful look at the customers who stopped buying, but there didn’t seem to be any connection between that and the robbery, even if it was an attempted hit and not a real robbery. Brett didn’t say that last part outright. There was no reason to freak out the Nelsons. 

They were still talking when Anna got a text. “Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“It’s from Marci. She said Theo has a fever. He might have an infection and they’re taking him somewhere to look at it. I have to go.”

“Keep me posted,” Brett said, flipping out of detective mode and into concerned brother mode. “Please.”

He had lots of follow-up calls to make, and alibis to confirm, but he was distracted all afternoon by what was coming in on his phone.

**_Theo has infection. Sent to ICU._ **

**_Fever 103.9_ **

**_Fever 104.4_ **

“Shit,” Brett said. “I have to go,” he told Stackert. If Theo’s fever didn’t go down, the potential charge might be bumped from attempted murder to murder. He tried not to think about that.

Foggy and his father were outside of ICU, arguing over nothing just to express their frustration and direct it somewhere. Brett ignored them for the time being and went right to Theo’s room, where Anna was wiping Theo’s limbs down with a wet cloth. He did not appear to be responsive.

“They said twenty-four hours,” Anna said, not looking her eyes off Theo. “The antibiotics need twenty-four hours to work.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Take turns, okay? And make sure you eat.”

“He needs me.”

“He’s a butcher,” Brett said. “He would be horrified if you were starving.”

“He can’t tell.”

Because Brett could get no further with her, he left. He needed to get back to work. He needed to do something productive. He stayed in the office late, making calls and notes until someone shouted, “Mahoney! You got another one!”

That didn’t sound good. Daredevil didn’t leave him packages often, but when he did, it made for some serious watercooler talk. And they weren’t even addressed to Brett or anything - they just tended to be, more often than not, dropped off while he was working.

“Fucking hell,” he said when he saw the unconscious figure tied to the post was Duncan Nelson. “Someone call an ambulance yet?”

Of course, someone had. Brett checked him anyway - his pulse was steady. There were no visible injuries above his knees. His shoes were gone, but he still had blood-covered socks on, and his feet were bent in all kinds of ways that they should not have been bent. Like someone took a hammer to them.

Brett cursed again and pulled the note off Duncan’s chest. It was a single piece of paper with the word “CONFESSION” written in exceptionally bad handwriting, and an attached flash drive.

He hated this. Hated, hated, hated it. 

  


The drive contained only an audio file. Duncan had been miked well, with good sound quality, and the sound would cut out sometimes, presumably when the two voices in the background were asking questions. Other than some scattered expressions from them, the only thing that came up clean was Duncan’s answers, and the tail end of his screaming. 

It was definitely Matt and Frank, but Brett knew that because he knew them well - their cadences, the way they lowered their voices to growls when they were in vigilante mode. An audio specialist unfamiliar with them would have a much harder time. 

Brett really didn’t want to listen to this. He didn’t want to listen to a man he considered family being tortured by two men he knew well and sort of respected. But he had to push on through about half an hour of audio, which was a painfully long time, because Duncan didn’t just confess. He gave details. He said what evidence he burned and what evidence he washed and where he stored it. He gave the names of the guys with him - one friend from prison, another friend of that friend. Both of them thought it would be a quick smash-and-grab job. They were all a little loaded and a little high, so that made it worse, and they positively freaked out when Duncan shot Theo in the chest without so much as asking for his money.

Over the store. All over the fucking store. And some bullshit with Uncle Timmy and Eddie. 

Brett wanted to be sick. It was embarrassing - he hadn’t been sick since his first crime scene, and that was allowed. Everyone was allowed one. Seasoned detectives who went up against the Punisher (or fought by his side) were not supposed to throw up in their office wastebin, but that’s exactly what he ended up doing. 

Stackert came in and Brett said, “Go to the hospital and arrest Duncan Nelson when he wakes up.”

“You don’t want this collar?”

“I definitely do not.” The family would know that he passed it off to someone else, but he didn’t care. “I can help you question him, but you make the arrest.”

Fortunately, he had two more suspects to track down, so he had a reason not to go to the hospital himself. Everyone in the station knew Brett’s commitment to this particular case, so they didn’t have a problem when he asked for a lot of backup to round up two men, at least one with a criminal record and a history of armed robbery. 

They hit the seasoned criminal first since he was more likely to skip town or fight back. He was in Queens, at home with his girlfriend, and he looked a little shocked at how many SWAT officers showed up to swarm his apartment. He put his hands up and said, “I want a lawyer.”

While the other officers executed a search warrant on his mother’s place upstairs to look for more evidence, Brett caught the tail end of the attempted escape of the younger guy. He lived in Harlem. He was just a kid, really, the one who, according to Duncan’s confession, had been brought along as backup. It was not his first robbery, but the first one he was going to be arrested for. He was in front of a chicken place with a couple friends, and as the cars pulled up he took off running because he had never seen an episode of COPS. Hee made it ten blocks, which was impressive, before a patrolman who happened to be at that corner and saw what was going on tackled him to the ground.

“Jordan Latoya, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering, attempted robbery, and the attempted murder of Theo Nelson. You have the right - ” 

“Murder? What the fuck?” Jordan said. “That shit was all Duncan! I didn’t even touch the gun!”

Brett shook his head as he cuffed him. This was going to be easy.

  


It turned out, as far as confessions went, it _was_ pretty easy.

Jordan ignored the advice given during the reading of his rights and did not even ask for a lawyer (and they didn’t remind him). He was young, terrified, and had no idea what they had on him - which was almost nothing. Forensics might find things in the different locations and they might not. Duncan’s confession was legally irrelevant and no judge would admit it into evidence. All it gave the police was two names and probable cause to make arrests and get warrants. But Jordan didn’t know any of that. He just didn’t want to go to prison.

“It was supposed to be _easy_ ,” he insisted. “Smash and grab. He said the guy would be alone and had a lot of cash. That he was a pussy and he wasn’t armed and he wouldn’t fight back. The gun was supposed to be for show. I didn’t know he was going to fucking shoot him.”

Brett let Jordan run his mouth off before asking any questions. Jordan hadn’t even asked for his phone call. He confirmed all of the details that had been forced out of Duncan - that Theo had told them they could take whatever they wanted, even offered to open the register; Duncan shot him, then stood over his body, debating whether to finish him off or let him bleed out; Jordan and Grant scrambled to find the register key - and failing that, open it with the bat. When Jessica showed up, Duncan tried to shoot her but got hit with the shelving unit first and shot the ceiling instead. As soon as she was gone, they crawled out from under and bailed, taking Jordan’s mom’s car. Jordan even had bruises from being hit by falling cans and sacks of potatoes, and he let the guy from forensics photograph them.

“Hey, do I need a lawyer?” he finally asked.

“You have a right to counsel,” Brett said. “Do you wish to exercise that right?” Because honestly, he didn’t know what else this guy could give him, and he didn’t want this thrown out because Jordan asked for a lawyer and didn’t receive one. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. Who should I call?”

“Whoever you want,” Bret said, and left him to stew while he got his phone call. 

By then, Stackert was back from the hospital. “Nelson - sorry, _Duncan_ Nelson will be in surgery for hours. His feet are a mess.” And they couldn’t Mirandize him until he woke up, so they left a police officer at the hospital who would follow him to recovery. “His parents and brother showed up. The hospital called his mom because she was his emergency contact. They know he’ll be arrested, but they don’t know the charges. But since he asked them to lie and be his alibi - ” 

“They know exactly what’s up,” Brett said. “We have to tell them about the search warrant for their house and Duncan’s locker at the worksite.” And if Duncan woke up in time, and wanted to press charges against the Punisher, they would need a squad car to see if “Pete” showed up to work. Frank wouldn’t be that stupid, but Stackert didn’t have to know any of this. “The house can wait until tomorrow since it’s empty.”

“What about Housman?” Stackert said, referring to Grant Housman, the other suspect. 

“Lawyer just showed. He’s not saying a word. I think the lawyer’s gonna try for a deal to get the attempted murder charge dropped.” 

But that was for the DA to deal with. Brett looked at his watch. “I’m gonna turn in. Long day tomorrow.” 

“Same.”

Brett returned to his office and checked his phone. There were a lot of texts from Foggy. 

_Fever still high._

_Duncan arrested? WTF Brett?_

_Andy and parents are here. Srsly Brett WTF._

_Fever 102._

_Going home. Still want you to call me mf_

Foggy knew why Brett couldn’t call. He hadn’t magically forgotten. Brett called Matt instead. “I want to talk,” was his opening line.

“I can’t. It’s my shift with Theo.”

“Find someone to cover you.”

“He’s in ICU, Brett.”

“And his fever’s down enough that everyone felt it was okay to go home? Find someone to cover you. This is not a request.”

Matt paused on the other end of the line. “Give me thirty minutes.”

“Come to the station.”

“Are you arresting me?”

“No.”

“Then not the station. Our office. Side door.” Matt hung up, determined to not let Brett have the last word.

That was fair. This wasn’t any kind of official meeting. The shop was boarded up until the windows could be replaced and there was a chain on the front door, but the side door still worked if you knew the code.

Matt was waiting for him. He was in regular clothes, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, seeing as where he came from. Still, Brett didn’t know with this guy.

“What the fuck, Matt?”

Matt leaned against the table they used as a desk for the office. “If you’re here to get me to implicate myself, that’s not going to happen. You know that.”

“Frank knew about Duncan, but he didn’t just act on it out of the blue. Did you talk to him?”

“He got a tip.”

“What?”

“Someone slipped an envelope under Karen’s apartment door,” Matt said. “Addressed to Frank, who isn’t officially living there, and certainly not as Frank Castle. Typed instructions. Duncan’s name, location, plus the names of the other two guys. It just said ‘Do what you do best.’”

“Did Karen see it?”

“I don’t know the answer to that.” Or he wouldn’t tell him.

“Did you - do whatever you do?”

“It was perfumed,” Matt said. “Someone took one of those free scent packets from a magazine and rubbed it all over it. Disguised any scent that might have indicated where it was printed. So someone knew Daredevil might get his hands on that note.”

“And you just went from there?”

“Would you have preferred Duncan remain free to finish Theo off?” Matt said. There was an edge to his voice that wasn’t there when he was Matt, the lawyer. It wasn’t threatening, but it was the voice of a man who was tired, angry, and ready to go off. “You obviously heard the audio. He hesitated. Theo was still breathing. He had a moment of doubt. He felt sorry for him. But what if that passed? What if Theo started to remember more? What if he could recognize voices?” Matt stared at him. Or his general direction. The glasses did the work for him. “If you’re here to make me feel guilty about something I allegedly did, you’re wasting your time.”

“Theo will hate it.”

“And Frank’s way would have been better?”

No, of course not. Theo would have hated that more. 

“Daredevil usually puts people in comas,” Matt said. “As long as they’re still breathing, that’s fine with him. But it sounds like Duncan will recover pretty well.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about it?”

“No offense, Detective, but this isn’t about how _you_ feel.”

Damnit, Matt was right. He was an inscrutable bastard, but he was right. Theo deserved to be safe and he deserved justice. They could deliver that. Brett said, “The confession will be inadmissible.”

“Of course. But the other arrests you made tonight will be the backbone of the case,” Matt said. “Provided he doesn’t just take a plea deal because someone known for murdering criminals told him to.”

“Does Foggy know?”

“No. But he’ll deal. Theo’s safety is more important to him right now.” He added, “Go home. You’re exhausted. You need to be at your best to handle your job and this family right now.”

“And if Duncan tries to press charges?”

“On who? The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and Frank Castle? Tell him good luck with that.”

Once again, Matt was right.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear something up: Theo is not a comics character and was invented wholesale for the show, and someone pointed out that he probably got his name from Theodore Roosevelt since the other President Roosevelt is Franklin Roosevelt and that's how the writers decided on a naming convention for the Nelson children. 
> 
> Marci is also not a comics character, and the nickname "Foggy-bear" is not from the comics. In season 2 when Foggy is shot, she gives him a teddy bear with a bandage around it, which is adorable. 
> 
> Here's how I wound all of this into my fanon here in this series: Theo was originally Ted, with the nickname Teddy-bear (and Foggy's nickname being Foggy-bear in turn), and when he got old enough to hate having his mom call him that he demanded to be called Theo, and this also explains why he doesn't like teddy bears. He resurrected "Ted" for the gay scene so he wouldn't actually be lying about his name but not telling the truth, either - Ward and Luke both originally knew him as Ted. 
> 
> Marci was clued into some of this (the part about bears) by Foggy, so instead she got Theo a stuffed moose (Theodore Roosevelt was head of the Bull Moose Party, which is now defunct). Theo named it Jonathan Edwards after Theodore Roosevelt's pet bear, Jonathan Edwards Roosevelt, because yes, Roosevelt had a pet bear.
> 
> This is the most interest I have ever taken in American history.

Andy Nelson sat down on the uncomfortable hospital bench, put his head in his hands, and wondered how his week could get any worse.

His parents were arguing with the police officer stationed outside the operating room. There were two of them, actually - one as a guard (as if Duncan was going to get up off the operating table and try to escape) and the other in plainclothes, so probably a real detective. Neither would reveal what Duncan was going to be arrested for, only that they couldn’t comment on an ongoing investigation. 

Someone in scrubs came out with an update: they should fuel up somewhere, or get some rest, because it would be a few hours. Duncan’s feet were smashed up good (she used other terms) and had to be reconstructed enough so that they could begin to heal; more surgeries would be required to enable him to eventually walk again. She may have also been saying this to stop people arguing in the hallway in the the middle of the night.

Tempted as he was, Andy didn’t look at his phone. Jo had a special ringtone, so he would pick up for her, but no one else. He didn’t know if anyone knew about this and he didn’t want to call and ask. Instead, he stared blankly at the floor until his parents were quieted and he shepherded them to the hospital cafeteria so they could get some coffee and snacks. 

“How could they arrest a man for being attacked?” his mother asked.

Andy avoided looking at either of them, prefering to stare at a bag of chips on the tray in front of him. “That’s not why he’s arrested.”

“Oh, so now you know?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer. 

After an uncomfortable amount of silence, he said, “You know, Theo is in this hospital. He’s not supposed to have visitors, but we’re right here. They’re not going to turn us away at the door.”

“Do you think he would want to see us?” his father asked.

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t. If he’s awake. If he’s asleep, we won’t bother him.” He did want to see Theo. He wanted to remind his parents of why they were all here, something they were all very aware of, but pretending that they weren’t. “He could literally be down the hall. Let me text Foggy for his room number.”

He did it without waiting for permission from either of them. Foggy called him back immediately. “You didn’t hear the news?”

“Um, no. We’ve had other stuff to deal with,” Andy said. 

“He’s back in ICU with an infection.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“If his fever goes down soon, yeah. We’re all here.”

“Should we come?”

“Yeah. I mean if you’re here, definitely. He’s in and out, but you can see him. I think that might be good for him, actually.”

“Great,” Andy said, even though really, nothing about this was great. “We’re coming up.”

Andy realized that Foggy might not know about Duncan’s arrest, especially if he was busy dealing with this new complication. “What are we going to tell them? We should decide now.”

“Duncan is here because he was attacked,” his mother said. 

“What was he doing in Hell’s Kitchen? They’re going to ask that.”

“We don’t know. I mean, it’s not as if the police told us. Just don’t mention the police.”

“They might be angry if they find out why we’re really here,” his father added, saying for the first time what they were all thinking. “We can’t do that to them. Not now. So - we were in the neighborhood?”

“They’re not going to buy that,” Andy said. “Not in a million years. When was the last time you guys came into the city for something other than a family event? And in the middle of the night?”

“Duncan comes into the city a lot,” his mother said. “We could say he came in, and we’re not sure what happened, but he was attacked and he’s in surgery. They’re going to find out eventually anyway.” But that put them in the same awkward position. “Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

“He’s your godson,” Andy said, “and he’s dying.” 

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“Mom, he almost died once already this week. I’m not being dramatic.”

“We don’t know that these two things are related.”

“Did Duncan ask you to lie and be his alibi?” Andy demanded. He’d been holding it back since they got the call from the hospital, and now he was tired, and stressed, and worried about just about everyone. To her stony silence, he said, “And why the fuck would he do that?”

“Because they were going to look at an ex-con,” his father. “They weren’t going to believe he was just out with friends.”

“They would if he could name the friends. If he had those friends backing him up. But he didn’t, did he? So he told you both to lie to Brett. But Brett saw right through it, because Brett is a smart guy and Duncan is a fucking idiot.”

“Andrew! Language! And that’s your brother you’re talking about.”

“If he’s not an idiot, then he’s just someone who makes very bad decisions.” 

“You don’t believe in your own brother?” his father asked.

Andy looked his father right in the eyes and said, “No, I don’t. He was shifty as fu - heck the morning after the robbery. He wouldn’t talk about it and all of the guys were talking about it even before I said anything. He’s been shifty all week. The only thing he’s asked me about Theo is if he’s gonna live. That’s it. That’s the whole line of questioning. And Brett must have had some lead, to show up at the worksite right away. Maybe there’s evidence. Forensics. We don’t know. But we do know that Duncan is a liar and he asked you both to lie to Brett. To  _ the cops _ .” 

“If you were in trouble - any kind of trouble - we would lie for you,” his mother spat back. “You’re our son and we would do anything to protect you. Just like you would do for your children, wouldn’t you?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he did it, Mom.” 

“You don’t know that!”

“Then why are we here? Why is Duncan under arrest? Why did someone feel the need to fuck him up before handing him to the cops? And why isn’t Brett here right now, asking us questions? Instead he sent some other guy, so he could delay looking in your faces and asking you to lie again. If Duncan’s under arrest, he must have evidence. So you can keep doing what you’re doing, protecting Duncan, because yeah, I would cover for my kids, but that doesn’t change the fact that Theo is dying one floor up because of Duncan’s shitty behavior! We can pretend that these things are not true, but they are, and they have consequences! Jesus Christ!”

The silence that served as their reply created a void in the room, which now had several people staring at them. 

“Sorry,” Andy said, lowering his voice. “We should go. To see Theo. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

“Okay,” his mother said. “You’re right. The rest can wait.”

He wanted to enjoy being affirmed by his mom, he really did, but he couldn’t appreciate anything good right now. Everything the world was just awful in the elevator ride up, and then in ICU, where they met and hugged Foggy and Uncle Eddie and Aunt Anna like nothing had happened, and just when they said they just came to see Theo, the others were so tired that they just accepted it without question.

“You’re lucky. He’s awake,” Aunt Anna said. “But please keep it short. And don’t tell him anything distressing or ask him too much. His fever is very high and he’s - well, you’ll see.”

Andy’s parents went in, and Andy waited with his aunt and uncle in the hallway, mostly whispering greetings and how are yous. Everyone looked much older to Andy, like they had all aged a decade since he had seen them last, even though Uncle Eddie’s hands were shaking less. Foggy was sending off constant texts somewhere, that activity taking up the remainder of his energy. Andy’s parents kept their visit short, and with Aunt Anna’s permission, Andy was given clearance to go in.

Holy shit, Theo looked bad. There was an oxygen mask covering most of his face and an ice pack on his head. Theo tried to call out and greet Andy with some enthusiasm, but words barely made it out of his mouth. 

Andy didn’t say why he was at the hospital. He made excuses for his kids - they had wanted to come in general, but hospitals were full of germs and Jo was against them seeing Theo until he was considerably better if they went at all. And bringing Mary was totally out of the question for many different reasons. So Andy showed Theo the video, hoping he could see it or follow it. He wasn’t sure, but it looked like Theo was trying his best even though his eyes didn’t look entirely focused. His face was flushed but his arms were pale as shit. Part of Andy wanted to talk for as long as he could, even if it was just nonsense talk, and spend all of the time he could get, but the other part knew that he was just lucky Theo could tell he was there. Theo never had weight to lose, so now he was positively skeletal.

Duncan’s arrest had given Andy this moment, so ... that was good. Somehow.

“Hang in there,” he said because he couldn’t bear to watch Theo struggle to keep his eyes open. He grabbed Theo’s hand and gave it a squeeze. 

He wanted to cry. He needed to cry, for so many reasons, all of them stress-related, but he held it together while he was in the room, and all the way to the doors of ICU. He didn’t want his aunt and uncle to see him cry. They didn’t need that. They didn’t have any emotional energy leftover - it all had to go to Theo. There was a silent understanding of that.

His parents didn’t say anything in the elevator, or the rest of the way to the family waiting room outside the OR. Andy didn’t want to be there anymore. He wanted to sob, but he wanted to do it in Jo’s arms, and she was over an hour away without traffic. Maybe he had never wanted to be with her so badly than in this moment, and he had to settle for his mom, who embraced him and let him cry on her shoulder.

“He’s going to be okay,” she said with confidence. “He’s a Nelson. We’re fighters. Foggy was shot and he was okay. In the same shoulder, too. And Theo’s tougher than Foggy.” She was near tears, too, but she wasn’t falling apart like he was. “Do you remember when Theo burned his arm when one of his model rockets exploded, and Ed and Anna were both at work, so I took him to the hospital? You wanted to come so badly, but a hospital’s not a good place for a child.”

Andy nodded. He remembered this, but only vaguely. 

“He was so brave about the pain. He was more worried that his parents would ban him from ever building models again that he didn’t want to go to the hospital. He thought maybe he could just cover it up and they wouldn’t find out. But I said he had to go. Practically dragged him. Everyone at the burn ward was so impressed with him. Usually kids came in with burns like that and they were wailing. Even adults, they said. But Theo cared more about his science. They gave him tylenol with codeine and he just went to sleep right on the table while they were bandaging him up. I told Anna to go easy on him. I told her that if she tried to stop him and wouldn’t let him buy any new models, I would buy them for him and he would come to my house and make them in front of me so I would see that everything was okay. So she gave in.”

“You made us watch a video about fire safety,” he remembered. “I don’t know where you got it from, but it was so scary and gross.”

“The fire department, and yes, they’re meant to be. Kids have to understand when things are dangerous.” She rubbed his back. “He’s going to be okay.”

Andy pulled himself together, or tried to. His parents shouldn’t be propping him up; it should be the other way around. But that’s the way it was.

They were quiet for the rest of the wait until Duncan was taken to recovery, where he remained some time before they were allowed to see him. The outlook for recovering the use of his feet was good, but he had lots of pins inserted and he needed time and further surgeries down the road. Andy wondered, but didn’t ask out loud if a prison would foot the bill (no pun intended) for that. Duncan woke in recovery, but was very out of it from the drugs, and all of the morphine he requested, so he wasn’t fully Mirandized until he was brought to a regular room - though the strap holding him down was probably a signal.

“Attempted murder?” he asked the detective who was not Brett. “Fuck, nothing I said under torture counts. That shit is inadmissible. They made me say it.” He was still spacey but he insisted, “I want to file charges. Against the Punisher and the other guy.”

“The other guy?” the detective said.

“Um, what’s his name. With the black mask over his face.” He would have waved his hand over his face but he was handcuffed to the bed. “The Devil? Is he called the Devil?”

“Is that his Christian name?”

“This isn’t a fucking joke. I was kidnapped and tortured by those two psychopaths. I’m filing charges. And the Punisher’s got a real name - I forget it. Frank? Was it Frank?”

“Frank Castle,” Andy said.

“It was Pete. Pete from work!” Duncan said. “Andy, did you know Pete was the fucking Punisher?”

“What?”

“He was hiding behind his beard. I’m telling you, the Gimp - we called him the Gimp - was Frank Castle. Don’t you check paperwork?”

“You know I don’t. I pay cash. Shit!” Andy looked at the detective. “Um, you might want to send a car to the worksite in case he shows up.” He didn’t think he would - Frank Castle was not known for being a dumbass - but now he was horrified at the prospect. “I didn’t know who he was, I swear!”

“I have to call it in,” the detective said.

“And I want a lawyer! I’m not saying anything without a lawyer!” Duncan demanded. “Where’s Foggy?”

“Um, I don’t think you can ask Foggy,” Andy said. “He’s  _ Theo’s _ lawyer.”

Duncan glared at him but their mother put a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ll find you a great lawyer, sweetie.”

Andy couldn’t stay there. Duncan could flip out on his own, but they had been there almost all night and now Andy had to be at the worksite ahead of all of his employees and maybe a SWAT team. Andy wandered out into the hallway, where he paced until he got a call from Brett.

“I have to tell the Nelsons about the developments in Theo’s case,” Brett said. “I can stall it until mid-morning, but I think if you guys want to leave, you should go. I don’t want an altercation in the hospital, even if it’s just raised voices. There will be police there. It won’t look good for anyone.”

“What do you take us for?”

“Nelsons,” was Brett’s answer. “Look, emotions are running high, but they deserve to know. We’ve got Duncan and his two accomplices. We might put off telling Theo himself if he’s not up for hearing it, but Foggy’s his lawyer. He has a right to know.”

“Fuck,” Andy said. “Sorry. That wasn’t meant - look, I know you’re just doing your job, okay? But I can’t promise how well my parents are going to take it. And now you guys are gonna be at my work. Did you know Pete was Frank Castle? You interviewed him. I remember that.”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

“G-ddamnit, Brett! Castle almost killed my brother!”

“But he didn’t,” Brett said calmly. “And he almost never leaves someone alive. But I can tell you, in all honesty, that I did not at any time tell  _ anyone _ that I was looking at Duncan as a suspect. Anyone, Andy. I promise.”

“Am I a suspect?”

“You know cops don’t have to give you an honest answer when you ask that, right?” Brett said. “But you’re not. Duncan said you had nothing to do with it, and the tape makes it very clear that he was telling the truth.” He added, “Take your parents home. Tell them to get some sleep, and try to get a few hours yourself. You’re all going to need clear heads tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” He knew he shouldn’t be thanking the cop who led an investigation into his brother, but damnit, it was Brett. “And ... just keep doing your job, okay?”

“Will do.”

  
  


After a relatively short amount of time, Andy’s parents’ energy began to sag, and since Duncan was going to sleep the day away on morphine, Andy drove them home. He would have tucked them in if he could have, just to make sure. They could drive on their own, but in the rush the day before, Andy had offered to drive since he wanted to go too and parking was hell at the hospital. 

He didn’t go home himself. By the time he got his parents in and settled, it was morning. He texted Jo, then went straight to the worksite, where he crashed on the couch in his trailer until he got a knock on the door. There were several squad cars, and a local officer with a warrant to search the site and everyone’s lockers. He waved them in and offered them coffee. He was numb with exhaustion as he sat at his desk while they searched his office. The local officer asked him about Pete, and he said no, of course he didn’t know his address, or his real name, and yes, he paid him in cash. He kept records of it, which he handed over immediately. 

Pete did not show. That was not a surprise. The others were very confused as they sauntered in, and a couple of them yelled at the cops for searching their lockers, but Andy told them to cool off and let the cops do their jobs. After they all went through questions with the officers - mostly about the behaviors of Duncan and Pete, respectively - Andy gave them a paid day off and closed the site. 

He made it home somehow. It was probably around noon, but time didn’t seem to exist for him. He just knew the kids were at school or preschool, and Jo greeted him at the door, holding the baby, who was awake.

“She’s so fussy today,” Jo said as she handed her off to Andy, and in that moment Andy realized his mother was right - he would do anything to protect his kids. He would lie up and down for them. Hopefully, he would never have to, at least to the police.

He wasn’t hungry but Jo insisted on making him a good breakfast anyway, and that’s when he realized he hadn’t eaten in maybe twelve hours, just had cup after cup of coffee. She didn’t pepper him with questions. He held his youngest daughter as she fell asleep against his chest. 

It was the most wonderful feeling in the entire world.

When it was clear that Mary was asleep, they carefully maneuvered her into her crib, turned the baby monitor on, and returned to the kitchen so Andy could eat. But he couldn’t stomach much before he needed to talk.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Andy said. “I have to tell someone. But you have to promise never to tell anyone.”

“Of course.”

“Ever. You have to take this to your grave. If I was friendly with a priest, I’d talk to a priest. But I’m not.” They went from church from time to time - for the big holidays, and to give the kids some sense of their religious heritage- but nothing serious. Andy took a deep breath as Jo said down next to him and held his hand. “I called in the anonymous tip that led Brett to Duncan.”

“What? When?”

“A couple hours after Duncan got to site the morning after the shooting. I just ... I didn’t tell them he did it. I just said to look at him carefully because there’s some family history over who controls the shop. I figured ... if he didn’t do it, he would have an alibi, and he would be checked off the list, and that would be that.”

“Does Brett know?”

“It was the Crimestoppers tip line. They told me it’s completely anonymous. He’s not even allowed to hear the direct recording. They just pass on the note,” he said. “Then a few hours later, Brett shows up at the site and interviews everybody. And I pretended like I didn’t know why he was there.” He rested his head in the palm of his hand because he couldn’t face her. “I turned in my own brother. On a hunch. I betrayed him.”

“And you’ve been carrying that around all week?”

He nodded. “It’s like ... I don’t want to say a weight around my neck, but that’s what it feels like. Like a literal weight. Everything is so heavy and it’s crushing me to death.”

He broke into a sob and Jo took his face in her hands and pointed his eyes at hers. “Andy, listen. You are not a bad person. You’re a good person. You’re the best person I know, and even if I hadn’t already thought that, I would think it now. Not everyone has the courage to do the right thing, but that was what you did.” He looked down as tears streamed down his face but she did not relent. “The only person who betrayed anyone was Duncan. He betrayed all of us - shooting Theo and then lying about it. Do you think I want that man in my home now, knowing what he did? Would he have been caught? I don’t know any of that. But I don’t have to worry about it because you took care of it. You have the strength that your parents didn’t have when he asked them to lie for him.” She hugged him tightly. “You’re a good man, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. Do you believe me?”

His honest answer was, “No.”

“It’s hard, I know. Or, I can only imagine what you’re going through. But it’s true. And I’ll keep reminding you. Duncan’s going down for this, but you’re not. He will not take you down with him,” she insisted. “How was Theo?”

“Bad. His fever’s gone down since though.”

“I saw that in the group chat.”

“I made my parents visit. Uncle Eddie and Aunt Anna didn’t know why we were in the hospital and they were too worried to ask. But I thought - they should see him. See what Duncan did to him. He was so out of it. He looked so terrible. But he really loved that video you guys made him. He didn’t say much, but I could tell.”

“The kids will be so happy to hear that,” she told him. “They don’t have to know anything else - just that you visited Theo and he was happy to see them, even if it was just on an iPhone screen. The rest, we’ll figure out later.”

“It might be on the news. And on the internet.” And the kids were allowed varying degrees of internet time and activity, through really only Olivia was allowed a web presence. 

“We’ll figure it out,” she assured him. “It’ll be a hard lesson for them, about reality, but in the end, it’s okay. Theo’s going to be okay, and they caught the bad guy. It just happened to be their uncle.” Jo kept her eyes on him, her hands wrapped around his face, one of them wiping tears away with her thumb. “You did the best you could with Duncan. We all did. And he made his choice and now he has to live with the consequences. And we’ll still love him, of course. Just - from a distance.”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“That’s a good line,” Jo said. “You should remember to use it again.”

He kissed her. Everything was not going to be okay - far from it - but they would deal with it together. She made him finish his eggs and toast, and then they went upstairs, where after a week of anxious tossing and turning, Andy was finally able to drift into a peaceful sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

When Foggy learned that Duncan Nelson was in the same hospital as Theo, having emergency surgery, and under police guard in a pre-arrest until he could be Mirandized, he knew two things:

  1.  It had something to do with the attack on Theo.
  2.  Matt put him in that hospital bed.



He didn’t bother calling Matt, as they both had a policy to never discuss anything Daredevil-related on any electronic device, even in code, unless Matt called from a burner phone. And he certainly didn’t tell his parents. Instead he texted Brett, hoping against hope for a response, but there was nothing. So he sat on it as it ate him up inside. When Theo’s fever finally began to break, Foggy sent his parents home, offering to stay with him until Matt arrived. Theo was more or less out of it, so it wasn’t like he would have the wherewithal to question the magic appearance of his aunt and uncle from Long Island late at night. 

While Foggy waited, growing angrier at Brett and Matt because he couldn’t help it, Theo slept, occasionally stirring enough for a nurse to beg him to drink even though he was on a saline drip, or swipe away his sweat. 

When Matt came in, Foggy was ready to tear him apart. Matt knew that, of course. He stood in the door to announce his presence, then stepped out into the hallway so Foggy could follow him far enough away from the room to raise his voice.

“What the fuck, Matt?  _ What the fuck? _ ”

“It’s your family, Foggy,” Matt said, though he wasn’t entirely unsympathetic. “Duncan confessed to everything.”

“Because you made him!”

“Frank helped. But Duncan wasn’t lying. He tried it, then found out it was a bad idea.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes. We made sure of that,” Matt told him. 

“Were you spying on Brett’s investigation?”

“Frank got a tip.” Matt told him the story of the note slipped under Karen’s door, and Frank’s offer to let Matt essentially decide what happened to Duncan.

“All of this was over the store?”

Matt shrugged. “He felt passed over. He didn’t want to be taking orders from anyone. He saw an opening, and he had a few beers and got high and didn’t think it through. But he didn’t finish Theo off when he could have, either. Not that that makes it much better.”

“What good does it do? All of that’s inadmissible.”

“I heard on the police radio. Brett got his accomplices. And he’s got warrants. Maybe he’ll even get some DNA evidence. Tower only needs one of them to agree to a plea and others will go down.”

Foggy couldn’t argue the logic of it. He just didn’t like it. Any of it. “I’m - I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. But you’re not going to make me feel guilty about it. I did what I had to do - what I wanted to do, because it was best for Theo. Which, admit it, it is. We were never going to rest easy unless his attackers were caught.”

Matt was right about that. Matt was right about everything and damnit, Foggy just wanted to be angry. He was so angry he could cry. “Theo cannot find out about this.”

“Then you have to figure out a gameplan to keep the news away from him until he’s better, because he has a right to updates on the case. So be on guard tomorrow. Brett will probably try to contact you first, anyway, just because he knows how badly it will go down.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He couldn’t really process all of this right, but he could be the lawyer. He could always be the lawyer who needed to protect his client. He could do it in his sleep. “I’m gonna go. I’m still mad at you, but also - thanks. About stuff.”

Maybe he wasn’t at his most verbose, but Matt smiled. He understood.

Foggy took an expensive Uber home to Marci’s apartment. She was sleeping on the couch again, waiting for him to come in, even though he told her that she didn’t have to do that. Before she asked any of her questions, she hugged him.

“He’s better,” Foggy said. 

“I saw the text.”

“Duncan did it,” he said. “Our cousin Duncan shot him twice in the chest. Matt kicked the shit out of him until he confessed, then dumped him at the police station. He’s in surgery, but it’s not critical.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Marci said, and while Foggy hadn’t implied anything, he knew the moment she said it that he needed to hear that from her. Or from someone. Anyone. 

As Marci hugged him, he realized, “I said  _ Matt _ kicked the shit out of him.”

“Yeah, um, Foggy-bear? I’ve known Matt’s Daredevil for, like, ever. No offense, but it’s really obvious. He doesn’t even cover the lower half of his face. And that ass - “

“Please don’t talk about Matt’s ass.”

“I’ll just say it’s notable and leave it at that. So yes, I’ve known for a long time, but you didn’t want to tell me, so I let it go.”

“He had help from Frank Castle. I had a feeling he ran into him from time to time, but he never talked about it with me.” He had told Marci about Frank after Karen told him, but he hadn’t actually seen or spoken to Frank, and Karen never discussed him. 

“And Duncan’s  _ still alive _ ? Wow, Matt had to pull some strings there. Shit.”

“Yeah, I guess he did.” He wondered how that argument had gone, or if Castle hadn’t even bothered to argue. “Karen knows something about it, but I’m not sure what.”

“Don’t ask her. You’ve got enough on your plate.” 

“Brett will probably come and formally tell us about the arrests tomorrow. My parents will find out, and we have to try to keep it from Theo for the time being. It’s just - this whole thing is extra awful, and he’ll take it the worst of all of us.”

“Theo’s a really sweet guy,” Marci said. “There’s a downside to that. But it’s who he is and we can’t change it. We just have to support him. And you have to support yourself, all right? You need real sleep and some real food.”

“I have been drinking less since I’ve been spending so much time in the hospital.”

“You’re pale,” she said. “Why don’t you take a Xanax and I’m make you breakfast in the morning?”

“You have never made me breakfast.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m incapable of doing it,” she said. “And if everything gets burned and we have to refinish the kitchen, that’s what Seamless is for.”

“What would I do without you?

“Probably have married Matt to get on his lease - which honestly, I wouldn’t blame you for. His living room is four times the size of ours. It would have gone bad, but for different reasons then his living space.”

He couldn’t find fault in her argument. He did take a Xanax and went to bed, and managed to not dream about Matt or Theo dying, which made it a winner of a night, and in the morning, Marci had a delivery of waffles waiting for him before she had to report for an arbitration with Jeri.

He got to the hospital not as early as he wanted to, but as early as he was able to. His mother was already there. Theo was back in his private room, sans the full oxygen mask that he hated, looking much better but not particularly sociable. He said he just wanted to sleep, and the nurses didn’t make him try to do laps around the station. 

Fortunately, Theo was sound asleep when Brett arrived. He texted Foggy ahead to warn him, and they conferenced not in Theo’s room but in a meeting room for families, making small talk over coffee until Foggy’s father arrived.

“We’ve made three arrests - Jordan Latoya, Grant Houseman, and Duncan Nelson. So far they’ve been charged with breaking and entering, attempted robbery, and attempted murder. The murder charge probably won’t stick, but it’ll scare Houseman and Latoya into trying to make deals and testify against Duncan. Who, being the shooter and the one who proposed the robbery, is the real target for the DA,” he said not entirely dispassionately, but as professionally as he could deliver this speech. “We have a confession under duress from Duncan that won’t hold up but led us to the guys he talked into it, and Jordan implicated himself in the station interview, but he might recant. Grant’s an ex-con so he knew to lawyer up, and he’ll go for any deal he can get. We also executed search warrants for their residences and their places of work. We didn’t find the gun, but we found the bat, and we took other evidence that will be submitted for DNA testing. Theo’s blood on any of their clothing would make a strong case for the prosecution.” He added, “And Duncan is here, in the hospital. He was admitted last night after he was dropped off unconscious in front of the police station, which tends to be the MO of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. After surgery to repair his feet, he informed us that he was kidnapped and tortured by people meeting the description of Frank Castle and Daredevil, but since he can’t provide a name for Daredevil, we can’t issue an APB. We were at Andy’s worksite this morning, where Frank was employed under the name Pete, but he didn’t show. We’re still searching for him, but we suspect he’s long gone, and Duncan would be wise to drop the charges against either of them. No cop in New York City wants to try to arrest Frank Castle.”

Foggy watched his mother sob and he put his arm around her. His father stared at Brett with disbelief. “So - last night, when Tim and Jean were here with their son - “

“They were here because they were Duncan’s emergency contact,” Brett said. “Andy drove them here and he decided that they should visit Theo while they were waiting for Duncan to come out of surgery. We don’t suspect any of them, though the parents initially provided an alibi for Duncan when I spoke to them two days after the shooting.”

“But Andy’s in the clear?” Foggy said, because he had to. He had to know. “What about his connection to Frank?”

“He claims he didn’t recognize Frank - who grew a beard - and didn’t do a background check when he hired him, and I believe him. I don’t think he would have employed Frank Castle of his own free will. And he’s been nothing but helpful during this whole investigation. He was never a suspect.” 

“Then who tipped off Castle?”

“We don’t know that,” Brett said. “And I’m not bullshitting you, Foggy. We really do not know. We have pursued various avenues to find out, and the word on the street is,  _ Frank Castle _ ’s not sure who left him the tip. But he acted on it for whatever reason he decides to act on things. I’m not about to try to get into his head.” 

“So Duncan is - “

“Under police guard two floors up,” Brett said. “However you want to tell Theo, that’s fine. Processing evidence is going to take time, and we have three suspects who might all try to make separate deals with the DA. So it’ll be a long time before he’s called for testimony. Even a deposition wouldn’t be for weeks. But it will probably be on the news. And I advise all of you to say absolutely nothing going forward about this on the family channel, or on the channel with updates about Theo’s condition. If anyone asks, you have been told not to comment while the investigation is ongoing, okay? Stick to that line. You are not obligated to tell anyone anything and you should not.”

“We understand,” Foggy said. Of course, it made completely legal sense, with Foggy acting as lawyer to both Theo and his parents. “Is there any chance that any of us - as in the people in this room - could be asked to give an informal interview or to testify?”

“That depends on how the case proceeds in terms of establishing motive. Again, if he pleas out, there’s no trial. But we’re still in the very early stages and most of this will be in the DA’s hands now, so I can’t promise anything.” He seemed to shut off his formal voice. “Aunt Anna, Uncle Eddie, I’m so sorry about all of this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Pop had the wherewithal to say. “It must be incredibly hard for you.”

“Off the record, I’m probably going to have to talk to some people in Internal Affairs about if Duncan’s position as a suspect was leaked or not,” Brett admitted. “I certainly don’t know of anyone who could have done it. We tried to keep this close to the chest from the beginning because of the family dynamics. It really shouldn’t have gotten out.”

“Castle has his resources,” Foggy said, not in defense of him, but just as a statement of fact. He really wanted to talk to Frank, but now wasn’t the time to mention it. “Thanks, Brett. For the way you handled this. We’ll talk to his nurse, see how long we can or should keep it from Theo.”

“How is he today?”

“Weak,” his mother said. “He’s still fighting the infection, but he’s responding to antibiotics, and his fever is down. But this was another thing to knock him off his feet.”

“Give him my best,” Brett said. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work.”

“Never apologize for doing your job,” Pop said. “Your father would be so proud.”

Brett gave a brief smile and left them to their pool of sorrow. They weren’t in accusation mode yet against their family members, but would be down the road. Foggy wanted to talk to Karen, but there was no way she would talk to Frank over the phone, and she was in meetings all day, covering for him by doing his work, as she had been all week. He did manage to get some pre-trial work done, but never as much as he planned. Technically he was supposed to be trading off with his parents, but he felt like he had to watch them, too, because otherwise they would never sleep or eat enough. They were all there late the night before, when Theo was in ICU, and for Foggy it was like last week was repeating itself, with the wait outside the OR for news. Matt had initially tried to stay, but every time he flinched, Foggy would demand to know what he was hearing, and Matt would be evasive (“I’ll tell you if he doesn’t make it”) and Karen would come between them to break up the fight. All Matt would say is, “He’s alive, he’s breathing.” He started looking distinctly green after a while, and in a way they were all grateful when he made his runs through Hell’s Kitchen trying to overhear the police chatter about the suspects or find someone to beat up. Foggy wanted to wring Matt out and get all of the details, but there were none to give. And Matt said nothing about Duncan, so Foggy believed him when he said he didn’t know about it. After surgery, it was another torturous day until Theo’s blood pressure stabilized, and then another few of watching him in a medicated sleep, and now this, with the fever, and just when Theo seemed finally on the road to recovery, he had to get  _ this _ update.

Foggy had stepped out when Theo got the news, which he wheedled out of Mom when she wouldn’t hand over his phone. When Foggy returned, Theo was in bed in stunned silence, and he motioned for Foggy to push his parents out before he spoke.

“I didn’t say anything to Brett,” Theo said. “I don’t know how this happened.”

“About what? Did you recognize Duncan?”

“No. I would have just said that. You said to tell the truth and I did. I can barely remember any of it,” he said. “And things with Duncan have been tense, but - the whole thing with the shop, and Duncan sniffing around there. He wanted a job there and I wouldn’t give him one because Andy told me not to. He said it would be trouble and Duncan was his brother and his responsibility. If Brett had known that - “

“He would have needed hard evidence to go on,” Foggy interrupted. “Even though Duncan’s confession won’t count, it got him the warrants he needed.” Their mother hadn’t told Theo all of the details, and Theo had enough in him to figure something out, so he demanded them of Foggy. He said he was tired of being coddled, and Foggy had to respect that.

“I mean, Duncan survived a meeting with the Punisher. So, that’s something. That doesn’t usually happen. Matt said - “

“I don’t want to hear about Matt right now,” Theo said. “I just - I’m not mad at him. Maybe. I just don’t want to think about it. I can’t think about it.” He closed his eyes because he was starting to cry. “I don’t want to think about any of it. I don’t want this to be happening, Foggy.”

“I know.” Foggy hadn’t hugged Theo a lot because of his wounds, and all of the tubes and wires, and Theo was still on oxygen and still in pain, so Foggy really only put his arms around him in a way suggestive of a hug. “I know. Do you want Matt to stay away? He’ll do it. He won’t be offended.”

“I don’t know,” was all Theo could manage to say, and he cried on Foggy’s shoulder - not the first person to do that today, hopefully the last. 

“None of this is your fault. Sometimes you do everything right and things still go wrong anyway. Trust me, I know. And I’m pretty familiar with being shot and being mad at Matt about it somehow, too.” He let Theo cry as long as he wanted to, but Theo tired out quickly, and Foggy said, “Let me show you the latest video of Sadie trying to kill me for feeding her steak.”

Theo didn’t laugh at it but he watched it, and he seemed pleased in a muted way before he drifted off to sleep. Foggy tried to do some work on his laptop, but couldn’t concentrate, and was relieved when his parents came back to switch places with him.

He called Karen and went to her place. He hadn’t been there since Frank moved in, but now he could see the signs - the workboots on the mat, the men’s clothing in the laundry basket, the extra mug in the sink, and the pile of paperbacks on the other bedstand. 

“Frank’s out of town,” she told him as he came in. “He decided that was a good place to be for a little while.” If she knew where he was, she didn’t say. “How is he?” She was not referring to her boyfriend.

“He’s better than yesterday, but the news hit him pretty hard,” Foggy said. “Matt’s going to make himself scarce, and Theo insists he doesn’t need someone through the whole night. I think all of the visitors might be wearing him out, too.”

“He’s mad at Matt?”

Foggy could only shrug. “It’s a complicated situation.”

“Matt told you about the note, right? Because that’s real. It’s not here - Frank took it to show him and never brought it back. He doesn’t leave evidence lying around my place. But I read it. We have no idea where it’s from.”

“Did he already suspect Duncan?”

“Yes, but he wouldn’t go into it. He did tell Brett about his suspicions when Brett interviewed him - but Brett was already acting on some tip. That’s what he was doing there in the first place. So we have at least one anonymous tipster, maybe two. Frank didn’t go to Matt until the tip, though. He wouldn’t go unless he had something solid. He doesn’t really know Theo - he just knows what he means to all of us.”

“Did you know what he was going to do?”

“He said he was going to go to Matt.” Karen was not defensive. She was carefully neutral about her actions. “I told him that was a good idea, and not to kill him, or any others involved. I’ve never said that to him.”

“You felt like you had to?”

“No, actually, because Matt was involved. But I felt like it had to be said,” she explained. “He came back, said it was done, nobody was dead, and he didn’t give me any details and I didn’t ask for them. And then he left.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” It occured to Foggy to ask, perhaps incorrectly. He didn’t really know anything about their relationship.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s Frank. He’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. Matt’s really the one in hot water probably.”

“Yeah ... Theo needs some space. Probably not for long, but I knew having us around all the time was getting to him before the infection.”

“Family can be a lot,” she said. “I know he elected to work for his parents and all that, but he’s an adult who’s used to being on his own. And now he has this shit to deal with. Look - I know everyone says this, and I’ve said this before, but if there’s anything I can do to help - just tell me how I can help.”

He wanted to say that she had helped enough - that they had all helped enough at making his brother miserable, because that was all he could think about, but he didn’t say that. It wouldn’t have been right or accurate. 

After all, part of him wished Frank had just killed Duncan and they could be done with this. A terrible part of him.

“I’ll let you know,” he told her. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filling prompt from yutaya:  
> On one hand, I super sympathize with Theo and Ward never really wanting to have to see each other even without any lingering animosity just because awkward BUT on the other hand I kind of want them to be forced together as part of the extended Defenders group with enough frequency that they sort of become friends (there are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and all that) and eventually Ward kind of confesses about how all that time his dad was actually a secret zombie who had him at his beck and call ("that's what most of those late night work emergency summons actually were") who abused him and Theo can be like "....fuck."

Theo was alone. It was how he wanted it, but it still made him miserable.

He wasn’t truly alone, of course. He was in a hospital, in a private room, and his body still needed constant attention. He still had a tube in his nose and people checking his stats and asking if he needed more pain medication, and he said yes even though it wasn’t going to be the right kind of medicine for the right kind of pain.

The nurse named Linda, who seemed to be in charge in some fashion, came to see him but didn’t check his stats immediately. She just said, “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be okay.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she said in a weird tone that was authoritative without being mean. “I’ve seen worse cases than yours - and yes, I do mean the general situation, not just the wounds. And if you’re suicidal, I have to report it.”

“I’m not suicidal.”

“Do you want to talk to a therapist?”

He shook his head. He didn’t even want to be talking to her.

“Is there anything you do want?”

“I’d really like to go home, and sleep in my own bed, and pet my cat, and get really stoned and watch shitty shows on Netflix.”

“I can really only offer one of those,” she said. “All of the hospital programming is shitty.”

He laughed. Not a big laugh, but it was worth a chuckle. It felt strange, the way it moved through his body. 

“I know when a patient is spiraling,” she said. “I don’t have a psychology degree, but I don’t need one. I’m not going to tell you to not let yourself feel what you need to feel right now. But when you’re ready to get back up, you seem to have a large support system.”

“I know,” he said. “Family’s just ... a lot.”

“Then call someone who’s not family. Even just to chat. You don’t have to make yourself more isolated than you already are.”

He was reluctant to take any suggestion that required work, but he did say, “I do have my phone back.”

“Use it when you need it,” she said, and looked at the numbers on the screens before she left him. 

He stared at his phone for a long time. He probably spaced out for some of it. It was hard to keep track of time in the hospital, between the drugs and the constant moving from room to room without him being aware of it and the  _ sameness _ of it all. 

Then he dialed, not knowing if it would go through.

  
  


“Well, if the shop is closed anyway, you have to come to India! It’s amazing here,” Danny said, his usual bubbly self. “And it’s cheap. And very easy to be vegetarian. I’m not sure about vegan, though. They put a lot of dairy in everything to offset the spices. I hope you like daal.”

Someone said something offscreen, and Danny responded in whatever language they were speaking, then looked back. He was sitting at a wooden table in what appeared to be an internet cafe/restaurant of some kind. He was wearing a maroon vest with brocade panels with intricate designs of colorful flowers that Theo assumed was ceremonial.

“Is everyone staring at you because you’re a white guy with an a Starkpad?”

“Please. This is 2019. There isn’t a monk without at least an iPhone in the whole state.” The Skype screen indicated that he was calling from Bihar, India. “I think they’re jealous of my video quality because I’m hooked up to my satellite phone instead of the local WiFi. Because I can go on a 33-day sacred initiation retreat and I still have to sign off on contracts?” He was bemused. “I keep telling Megan, just sign my name, but Ward won’t let her do that. So this is how I spend my lunch break.”

It was daytime in India, which Danny informed him was ten-and-a-half hours ahead of New York. His mornings, he explained, were for prayer and mediation. In the afternoon he received teachings, then engaged in monastic debate, then had another free period, then went to bed. 

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t come back,” he explained. “I talked to Colleen about it as soon as I saw her message, but she said there was probably nothing I could do. And if I break retreat and leave, the other seventeen initiates have to break, too. It’s really rude to them and to the lama who’s giving us sacred teachings. So I stayed. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s really fine,” Theo said. “Seems like everyone pitched in.”

“I told them to keep me posted, but Ward keeps talking about the hippo thing.”

“HIPAA? You mean my medical privacy?”

“Yeah, that. I own the hospital but I can’t have access to your records. Which is good, I guess? But I’ve only had like, sporadic updates from Luke and Matt. And I know you’re not religious, so I’m sorry if this is offensive, but I’m praying to White Tara to lengthen your lifespan.”

“That’s ... nice?” Theo didn’t know who White Tara was. “Thanks. What does Ward have to do with it?”

“The night you were admitted, I sent him to the hospital. He didn’t tell you?” Danny frowned. “Oh right, close family only. Anyway, as soon as I heard, I called him, and told him to get up and go down there and make some noise. Fly in specialists or whatever needed to be done, put it on my bill, all of that - and of course he said, yeah, he would do it, but didn’t I have a secretary for this who was in charge of my finances? And I said yeah, but she had a new baby, so I wasn’t waking  _ her _ up in the middle of the night. So he did it. I assumed. He’s good for things like that.”

“Uh, no. I didn’t know anything about it. Now that I think about it, I am in a private room.”

“With Linda Carter, right? She took care of Misty.”

“Yeah?” This news was a little overwhelming. “Danny, really, you didn’t have to do any of this.”

“I wanted to do it. Don’t worry about it.” He gave the dismissive expression he usually did when spending vast amounts of money. “So what’s the latest? How are you feeling?”

“Shitty. My cousin shot me.”

“They caught him?”

“Yeah, ‘Daredevil’ and Frank Castle kicked the shit out of him. And I don’t want to talk about the case. It’s too fucked up.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I used the Iron Fist on Ward’s dad,” Danny said. “And then he shot him. And then he fell off a building. And then we had his remains cremated because he was a zombie and he had already come back from the dead twice. And this was after Ward tried to have me killed while I was held in a psych ward against my will, so it was a very weird time for me.”

Theo couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was rude, but it was only the natural response to the nonsense that definitely wasn’t nonsense that came out of Danny’s mouth. “Wait, so who shot Ward’s dad?”

“Ward. Ward shot his dad. Because, again, he was a zombie controlled by the Hand. So it wasn’t like he was  _ really _ shooting his dad, I guess. He doesn’t seem too upset about it. But I think that’s why his sister tried to kill both of us? Because she didn’t know their dad was sort of alive and evil and there was just nothing we could do to explain it. Apparently we did a very bad job of explaining things.” 

“Danny, don’t take offense to this, but you are a very bad explainer.”

“So I’ve been told. All I say is what really happened to me, as clearly and honestly as I can, and no one believes me. Oh - and that reminds me! There’s someone else here from K‘un-Lun! So you can come and meet him and he can tell you I’m not crazy. I didn’t know him, actually. The gate opens every fifteen years, and the year that it was open and I came, he was going. His name is Wong and he’s a librarian in Kathmandu now. He’s not taking the initiation I’m taking now but he’s in Bodh Gaya anyway, because the 17th Karmapa’s in town, and when he’s in town, the whole place just picks up and there’s good teachings left and right if you can understand Tibetan or Mandarin or Hindi.” 

“I don’t know who that is.”

“The Karmapa is the seventeenth reincarnation of an important lama who can bestow empowerments and runs a whole Buddhist sect from Tibet. Though I think there’s a dispute as to whether he’s the right guy or it’s some other guy who lives in Europe now and I think disrobed to marry his girlfriend. There’s a lot of earthly politics involved.” 

“Do they actually recognize you as the Iron Fist there?”

Danny made a wavy gesture with his hand. “It took a really long time to convince them that I was legit, and the Iron Fist is really a K‘un-Lun-only position, but they had some knowledge of it. So I sat down with a bunch of Tibetan Buddhists and Indian Buddhists and a couple Chinese guys but there’s like, not a lot of good Buddhist learning in China right now, so the important guys are in exile, and they basically told me that my understanding of dharma was really poor and if I didn’t study I would rot from the inside like a fruit that fell from the tree before it was fully ripe. Which they’re probably right about, because I really spaced out when it came to the Buddha’s teachings growing up and focused more on martial arts. So they act like I’m a nobody and then every once in a while they call me up and ask me to come to this secret Tantric ritual that I can’t tell other Westerners about. Oh - and Tantra’s not about sex! Or most of it’s not about sex. It’s sacred teachings. Only some of them are about sex but that’s all Westerners know about when they hear the word.”

“What happens in these secret rituals?”

“We banish demons and stuff? I’m  _ really _ not supposed to talk about it,” Danny said. “It doesn’t even work half the time. And then they start arguing about who brought the bone scepter and if it was real or fake and someone says it’s fake and the whole thing just dissolves, and I wake up on the floor because I used up all of my chi at once and everyone’s gone already. It’s a mess.” 

“I’m really glad that you’ve found people who appreciate your talents,” Theo said, joking and meaning it at the same time. “Are you going to stay there?”

“If I did, I’d probably have to be a monk full time. And I’m really bad at that. And I have people I care about in New York, so ... yeah, I’ll be here for the rest of the initiation, and then maybe a little while after it, and then I have to get back or Colleen is gonna kill me.” He sipped his tea from a tiny glass. “But you should come! Please come. You’re not a Rand employee but I’m sure I can find a way to expense the plane trip, and that’s really most of the price, and then you can tour around Delhi and Agra and Jaipur and then come to Bodh Gaya. And I’m not saying you have to take cooking classes, but you might actually like it, if you want to make food you can eat with real Indian spices.” 

“I’ll think about it.” He knew Danny was good on the offer of the plane trip, but he was already overwhelmed with his generosity. “Thank you for everything. Really.”

“Good deeds burn my negative karma from all of the meat I eat. And people I’ve beaten up. Don’t even give it another thought.” He looked at someone to the side. “Sorry, I have to go. We have these giant ritual horns called dungchens and I have to be on one this afternoon, but they’re always falling apart because they’re made up of different pieces and they’re old. Feel better!”

And people said Danny was the least useful Defender.

  
  


The next day, even though he was still fighting an infection, the doctor told him to walk again. They wanted to take him off oxygen during the day if he could handle it. He steadied himself by his IV pole, refusing to put weight on his tiny, tired mother while his other arm was still in a sling. The other parts of the floor were not very interesting, but that was how desperate he was for a change of scenery. 

They didn’t talk about the news. He knew Duncan’s arrest made the Metro section and people were starting to connect the family dots. Man, why couldn’t the Avengers do something exciting this week? Do him a favor? But he wasn’t exactly national news with reporters beating down his door. His mother just asked if he’d seen the news, and he said yes, and then she talked about Florida and wedding planning. The more he heard about it, the happier he was that he wasn’t actually the caterer. It wasn’t that Marci was turning into a Bridezilla (he couldn’t imagine where she would find the time to even pick out a dress) so much as all of the social expectations of the Jersey side of the family.

Brett came by, but strictly as a social call, and he said as much. “You look a lot better.” He brought more offerings from his mother. She was getting very good at cookies without eggs, though anything was better than the store-bought stuff. 

Theo slept most of the afternoon, and caught his father napping in the chair when he woke up, so he sent him home. It was time to walk again when Ward showed up, knocking very hesitantly on the door, which was never allowed to be fully closed. 

“Hi,” he said very tentatively. “Danny sent me, so I’m here on his behalf. But I can go if you need to rest.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, his legs over the side of the bed already. “Actually, if you can walk with me, that would be great. I think the nurses will freak out if they see me walking alone. I just sent my dad home.”

Ward was in an expensive suit because of course he was. Ward didn’t own casual clothes. “I didn’t know if I was allowed to bring you flowers. Danny commissioned a painting in your honor but it’s not done yet.”

“What?”

Ward rolled his eyes. “It’ll be something like a traditional painting of a Buddha of healing or whatever and because the painter had you in mind, it will speed up your healing. And it’s being done in India.”

“Yeah, he wants me to go.” Theo could get on his own two feet just fine, but he grabbed Ward to steady himself until he could get the IV pole out to unhook it. “Even offered to pay for my plane ticket, on top of all of this stuff.” He gestured to the room. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“Technically I don’t have to take orders from Danny, but he makes it a real pain when I try to argue with him,” Ward said. “And I would have come anyway.”

“I didn’t know about it until he mentioned it.”

“I didn’t try to meet with your brother or Murdock or ask doctors any questions. I just got some administrators out of bed and annoyed them.” He walked beside Theo as they very slowly rounded the corner out of the room. “How do you feel?”

“Technically, better,” Theo said. “My lung is much better. The shoulder they’re keeping partially open so they can drain it, so it throbs. Sorry - was that too much detail?”

“I do work in the medical field.”

“In like, the loosest possible sense.”

“That’s fair.” Ward held open the heavy door to the ward when Theo wordlessly pointed to it. “I heard the news about the robbery. And the arrests. But you probably can’t talk about it except through a lawyer.”

“Did you really shoot your dad?” He supposed that was a rude question, but Theo couldn’t help himself. Besides, Danny treated the matter pretty casually. 

“Yes. Technically Danny was supposed to defeat him but - well, he’s Danny. I didn’t want to tell you about this, but you know those weird calls I would get that I would have to immediately answer and then rush out the door?”

“Vaguely, yeah.” Though that was really all of Ward’s business calls. 

“That was my dad. Or, my undead father. Who looked very much like my real father and technically had his body.”

“Shit. You could have - “

Ward stopped him. “I couldn’t. As in, I literally could not. I tried to tell Joy and I had this vision of blood stopping me in the elevator. Fucking magic ninja cults. I was physically unable to tell anyone. The only people my dad saw for a decade were me and his personal assistant, whom he killed when he started to lose it at the end.” 

They made it as far as a bench across from a window with a view of the Hudson, and Theo sat down. “I still would have wanted to know.”

“And I still wouldn’t have told you because the last thing I needed was you wrapped up in my family shit. I didn’t tell Joy because I couldn’t but also because I didn’t want to. I wanted to protect her. Dad ... wasn’t a great guy. Dead or alive. But she was his little girl, so she didn’t know that, and it’s too late for her to really understand it.”

“I will say, it makes my fuckin’ problems seem kinda minor,” Theo said. “I got shot up over a butcher shop. Which I don’t even have majority ownership of. And is only afloat despite my bad business decisions because of Danny Rand’s love of yak meat. What a shitty thing to almost die over.”

“The store means a lot to you,” Ward said. “It always meant a lot to you. That makes it more than an ordinary store.”

“Meant a lot to me, right,” Theo said. “Now - I don’t know if it’s the legal and addictive drugs that I’m on, or what that stupid place has done to my family, or just that this is the longest I’ve been away from it in years, but I can’t think about it like I used to. I don’t even _ want  _ to think about it. My parents haven’t brought it up, but I haven’t asked about it, either. Shouldn’t I care?”

“People have probably told you this, but you’ve just been through trauma. You’re still going through trauma. You need time to process it,” Ward said. “Also, please give me some of those drugs.”

“How’s NA?”

“Awful. People’s lives are so boring if you don’t care about them, and I’ve never been good at pretending to care about people I don’t care about.”

“But you’re getting through it,” Theo said. “That’s - it’s terrific, Ward. It’s great. I’m glad things are better for you. I mean, I’m not happy that your dad is dead - “

“No,” Ward said firmly. “Let’s just be happy he’s dead and move on.”

“ - but something seems to be going right, if you can stick with the program. I know a lot of people who’ve flunked it.”

“I had some help from the magic of pharmacology,” Ward said. “Which I know is ironic since it got me into the mess in the first place. Cycle of karma and all that.”

“You’re doing that too now?”

“Oh, no, I’m staying a polite distance away from whatever Danny’s into,” he said. “But I did go to Asia with him. You should take him up on that offer, by the way. Do you have a passport?”

“I got one for another form of ID.”

“Then go. If you have an opening, take it. Even if you hate Asia - and there’s some reasons to hate it if you like indoor plumbing - you’re still getting out of New York. It’ll put a new perspective on things.”

Theo looked down. “I don’t know.”

“You were always happy working at the shop, right? That’s why you did it.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re not. So - maybe it’ll pass, and maybe it’s time to reconsider your options. You still have an engineering degree.”

“That thing is ancient. All of my knowledge is way out of date.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ward told him. “You can always come work at Rand.”

Theo leaned his head against the wall. “I don’t want a pity job from an ex.”

“It wouldn’t be a pity job. We’re going big into biomedical engineering. It started because Danny wanted to give a girl who he has a crush on - and who is way more into me, coincidentally, which is weird - a prosthetic arm, and it just blossomed out from there. I’ll give him credit for it - it might be the only good business idea Danny’s ever had.”

“I don’t know the field.”

“No one knows the field yet. Bionanotechnology? Orthopaedic Bioengineering? It  sounds complicated but it’s so wide-open I think we’re making it up as we go along. It’s an exciting field to be in.” He added, “Think about it.”

“Okay.” He knew Ward was trying to help him. It was just a lot to process. “I thought you hated working at Rand.”

“When I was secretly working for my father, yes. I hated Rand and all it stood for. I wanted out. But I was good at it, and now he’s gone and Danny’s - not so bad to work with. He’s more interesting than the other board members - that’s how I’ll put it. He looks up to me and I have no idea why. When we were kids, our families were so close, we were like siblings, except I used to kick him in the balls.”

That made Theo smile. “Then you definitely were siblings.”

“And I can’t leave Rand in his hands. After all the work I put into it, to let it crash and burn while he turns it into some poorly-managed non-profit then can’t figure out why he’s not rich anymore? Not gonna happen.”

“And you do like being rich.”

“I very much like being rich. You should try it sometime. Let us hire you.”

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” Theo admitted. “I did work on an engineering project recently.”

“Oh?”

“I electrified my niece’s dollhouse. She was so thrilled. Here, I’ll show you.” He took his phone out of his robe and swiped through pictures until he got to one. “And the baby I’m holding is my goddaughter. Andy’s kid.”

“Which one is this?”

“My cousin. His brother is the one who, you know.” But he wouldn’t let that bring the mood down. “Andy wasn’t involved. I’m sure he feels horrible. But it’s just going to be weird for a little while.”

“I know you don’t have it in you, but if you do have to kill any family members, make sure to burn the remains. Full industrial cremation. Trust me on this one.”

Theo shook his head. “I never thought my life would be as crazy as the rest of you.”

“The rest of you? You don’t see me in a mask or a costume. Danny offered to teach me martial arts and I said no way. Not in a million years.”

“Why? Are you afraid he’s looking for an excuse to kick you in the balls?”

They laughed so hard that Theo started coughing. Even though he caught his breath again fairly easily, Ward insisted on walking him back.

“We were about to send someone to look for you,” his mother said. She was standing in the doorway to his room. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Ward, this is my mom. Mom, this is Ward. He’s the CFO of Rand Corp. And - we used to go out. Years ago.”

“Oh,” his mother said. “So nice to meet you, Ward.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Nelson,” he said, and shook her hand before darting out of there before Theo could even thank him for coming. 

Theo’s mother gave him a look.

“He wanted to meet you, but I wasn’t ready,” he said. “It was years and years ago, Mom.”

“He seems nice.”

“He can be.” He groaned as he laid back down. His shoulder was sore and he was sick of the sling. 

“You know, you could have told us. It would have been okay.”

“Mom, please.” He  _ never _ had the patience for this conversation. 

“Fine, fine.” She gave up quickly. “Jo called. She feels so terrible.”

“Everyone feels terrible.”

“I think, if you want - it might be good for you to reach out to Andy. When you’re ready. It can just be a text. She says he had nothing to do with it and he’s just in pieces.”

“I believe her,” he said. “I’m not mad at him. I just - I’ll think about it, okay?”

She kissed him on the forehead. “That’s all I ask.”


	13. Chapter 13

Theo wasn’t mad at Andy - he really wasn’t. He was just tired of everything. He needed the world to stop for a few days. Nonetheless, when when Foggy told him that Matt wanted to talk to him, Theo couldn’t say no. 

“He’s not going to apologize,” Foggy said. “Just so you know.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to let him come if you guys are just going to fight.”

“We’re not fighting,” he assured his brother. He felt kind of bad for Matt, left out in the cold. “Tell him he can come.”

“You need a referee?”

Theo glared at him.

Matt came late, but not too late. Theo was just dozing when he arrived, which he seemed to be doing most of the time. Matt stood in the doorway. “Hi.”

“Hi.” 

“You’re off oxygen.”

“Yeah, finally. I think they might let me out of here someday.” 

When Matt seemed to understand that Theo wasn’t going to bite his head off, he approached the bed. “There’s some news. It’s not official yet. Do you want to know?”

“You can’t tell me that and not tell me what it is.”

“The other two guys are probably going to take pleas to get the attempted murder charge knocked off in exchange for testifying against Duncan. Until the forensics come back, without them, the DA won’t have a strong case against Duncan. And forensics will take a while. Provided Duncan doesn’t plea himself. He hasn’t had a bail hearing because he’s not ready to be discharged from the hospital so he can’t go to jail. The cops have interviewed him but he’s got a lawyer. Not a public defender. Someone found money to pay a real lawyer. Doesn’t mean it’s going to be a great lawyer.”

“Do my parents know?”

Matt shook his head. “I overheard some things and told Foggy a little while ago.” 

Theo didn’t know what to do with that information. “I feel really shitty about thinking that it would be simpler if you had let Castle kill him. It makes me such a terrible person.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” Matt affirmed. “You’re allowed to have these thoughts. Everybody does.”

“Even you?”

“Sometimes,” Matt admitted. He looked pained doing it. “I don’t think Frank would have done it unless I asked him to. He doesn’t really know you. Believe it or not, he doesn’t try to get involved in every crime in the city. But he knew about your connection to me. And whoever tipped him off - and we really don’t know who - knew about that, too. But he’s not worried about it, so I’m not worried about it.”

“What are - where is he now?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told anyone. Not even Karen.”

“Is Duncan going to press charges?”

“If he’s stupid, sure. Frank won’t care. He’ll just stay away a little longer.” He changed subjects. “So I heard you got a visit from Ward?”

“Why? Are you jealous?”

“No,” Matt said. At least it made him smile. He looked so sad. “I figured he or Danny had something to do with the hospital arrangements, but I didn’t look into it.” 

“He offered me a job at Rand. In their cybernetics division or whatever it is that Danny thinks they should do.”

“Are you going to take it?”

“I have no idea. I can’t even move one of my arms. How am I supposed to make major life decisions?” He just knew that Ward was good for it. “He was being nice. He always admired me, working in a place because it made me happy when he was so miserable at Rand. But I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Give yourself time,” Matt said gently. “As long as you don’t spend months moping in a church basement while everyone thinks you’re dead, you’re miles ahead of me.”

“Thanks for putting it in perspective,” Theo said. 

“Well, I’m glad I could be good for something,” Matt said, and Theo was glad that he invited him, and that Matt came.

  


During dinner the next day, Theo got a visitor he had not invited and did not expect.

“There’s someone named Marcus here to see you,” his mother said.

“Marcus?” Theo tried to clear his head of morphine to parse the name until he saw Misha walk in. “Oh - right. Hi. Marcus.” The name felt weird on his tongue, but he didn’t say anything as his mom left.

Misha was dressed in a button-down, slacks, and a tie. She always kept her hair short, with just a little bit of brutal straightener, but all of the sparkly clips were gone. Even her hospital visitor badge said ‘Marcus.’ 

“This is me during the day,” she said with a resigned shrug. Even her voice seemed deeper, but that was probably Theo’s imagination. “Some people at work know. I’ve had an unofficial conversation with my boss, and while she’s fine with it, I’m a social worker with a pile of cases and I have to walk every one of them through the concept. And if you’re seeing a social worker, you’re not necessarily in a great place in your life and that social worker might be a source of stability, so - yeah, it’s complicated. And it’s not like I’ve told my family yet.”

“Telling family is hard,” Theo said. “Even if it goes well, it’s still hard. It shouldn’t be, but it is.” He knew their situations were vastly different, but they had always managed to commiserate on this issue. 

“How are you?” Misha asked. “Is it okay that I came? We really ganged up on Matt to give us your room number, but you weren’t answering your texts.”

“You have his cell?”

“Called the office number, kept trying until we got him on the phone.” She had flowers with her, a small batch in a vase, which she set on the tray. “This is from all of us. Shawn wanted to get you a six-pack but that probably doesn’t go with your medication.”

“I’ll take him up on it later if the offer’s still good,” Theo said. “I’m touched. Really, I am. And I haven’t been on my phone that much. Either I’ve been too drugged or they’ve tried to keep it away from me. Did you see the news?”

“That’s how we knew about it. And the bit about your cousin. Do you want to talk about it?”

Theo debated the question. Misha was definitely waiting for his consent. “Um, a little.” She wasn’t part of the family chats or texts, so she only knew what was on the news, and he wasn’t sure what was on the news. He didn’t give her a blow-by-blow, but he summed up the situation as best as he could, bouncing around a little bit between his questionable memory and how everyone seemed to be acting around him.

Misha listened. She was a good listener, either by nature or because of her profession, or both. She only asked to review how everyone was related, which she was keeping track of. She let him go silent, so he could digest his own words and feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it all over again. 

“Do you have someone to talk to?” she asked.

“I’m talking to you.”

“I mean someone who isn’t a friend or family. A professional,” Misha explained. “This is a lot, Ted. Or Theo.”

“Either one.”

“It’s a lot. It might help to talk to someone whose job is to be neutral and supportive. I would do it, but I’m not neutral. I’m your friend. And it’s not my speciality. But I can hook you up with someone who won’t break the bank. Even if you only see them once. You can decide you don’t like it and discontinue. No one will be offended. But I think you should try it.” She added, putting a hand over his, “You don’t have to decide now.”

“I’ll think about it,” was his honest answer. Misha usually had good advice. “Right now I just really want to get out of here. Then I can worry about everything else.”

“We missed you,” she said, meaning the pool session he must have missed. G-d, he really didn’t know how long all of this had been going on. It seemed like forever. “We want you back even if you can’t play. We’ll even let Matt play for you, if you want.”

He grinned. “That would be massively unfair to you guys.”

“We can have a competition to see who comes in second.” 

“Then he’ll manage to come in second somehow.”

“I bet he would. And let us know if you need anything in the meantime, okay? Even if it’s just chasing your loving and supportive family away for a little while.”

“I can’t imagine why I would want that.”

  


The doctors finally decided to close up the shoulder wound, a procedure that was more uncomfortable than painful after they numbed the area. Theo was happy that he didn’t have to endure any more of people fiddling with it for the time being. It was still sore and he still had to keep it immobilized, but having an open wound was so strange and gross. He could shower now as long as he kept about half of his torso wrapped in plastic, and it felt _so good_ even in an unfamiliar hospital shower.

He didn’t ask for, and didn’t receive, any updates on the case. 

He still needed pain medicine, and he still needed to sleep just about endless amounts, but he felt much less like an invalid. A physical therapist came to discuss his arm, and the amount of therapy he would probably need, and how much use he could expect to get back. It hadn’t registered any of the previous times that there would be some sort of permanent impairment, and that he was lucky not to have more. He supposed it was ungrateful of him, but he didn’t feel very lucky.

It took about a day for him to get over himself and text Andy.

 _Thank you for visiting me in the hospital_ , he began. _I’m not ready to talk about stuff yet but you should know I’m not mad at you._

The gray bar flashed for a long time as Andy was typing and deleting, typing and deleting. **_The kids want to see you whenever you’re ready_ **.

 _Okay_ was all he wrote back. That was enough for the time being. Andy was a good guy - he would understand.

“I texted Andy,” he told Matt, the only person around he felt like he could talk to about this particular topic. “I told him I’m not mad, but I’m not ready to talk to him. I’m sure he feels terrible, but I don’t have the energy to deal with it.”

Matt always came at night, when it was quiet, and Theo had too much time with his own thoughts. Matt seemed to know that, and he just waited for Theo to speak. In this case, he nodded. 

“I don’t want this to be a thing,” Theo said. “I mean, it’s already a thing, but I don’t want it to be the source of another feud that splits the family. That’s what got us here in the first place.” 

“I won’t tell you not to worry about it,” Matt said. “You can’t shut off your brain. But you’re not in the position to be a peacemaker right now. Especially not while the DA is still assembling the case.”

“Have my parents said anything?”

“I haven’t been listening in on your parents,” Matt said, and that was that. Theo did not ask him what Foggy was saying - that was a line he knew he shouldn’t cross with Matt. 

  


Theo had been in the hospital almost two weeks before they cleared him for release. The infection was cleared, but he still had to finish his course of antibiotics. There were pages and pages of instructions for follow-up treatment and medication, with the important things highlighted, and they gave him a giant bottle of Oxycontin. 

“I didn’t know this was still on the market,” he said to Linda.

“It is highly addictive, but you have the doctor’s permission to take it as you need it. Narcotics are still our best ammunition in treatment for pain from surgical procedures,” she said. “If you want to take less than the recommended dose, that’s not a bad thing.”

“Can I substitute it with weed?”

“Weed isn’t a painkiller,” she said. “But if it takes the edge off, it’s safer than narcotics. But you didn’t hear me say that. And remember that your lung is healing. You really shouldn’t be smoking anything.”

“I have a vaporizer.”

She held firm. “If you inhale and it hurts, don’t do it. Give your body more time.”

Everyone was there for his discharge - his parents, Foggy, Matt, and Karen. Marci probably would have been there if she could get off work in the middle of the day. It felt so good just to be in real clothes again. His mother put the instructions in a brand new folder and his father collected all of the cards and flowers and other little gifts people had given him, and they took a cab the few blocks to his apartment because they insisted he not walk.

“Pop, I’m fine,” he said when his father reached out to steady him as they walked to the elevator. The day before, he was on a treadmill to test his breathing. He could walk. “I’m really fine.”

The big surprise was at the door. Sadie, who never, ever greeted him, came running, slipping past the others and less rubbing herself against his legs as shoving her body into them. 

“Woah, she’s never done this before,” Theo said. “I guess she does like me.”

“Theodore, sit down,” his mother ordered, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. Sadie leapt onto it and rubbed her head against his side - the good side, fortunately. She purred and kept leaning against him with as much of her body as possible, as if she needed to confirm every inch of his existence with every inch of hers. 

“She’s usually not like this,” he said. His father and Foggy were loading up the fridge. Karen dared to come near the bed, and Sadie hissed at her. “Yeah, okay,” Theo said. “She’s still Sadie. You didn’t switch her out with a different cat.”

“Oh, we thought about it,” Foggy said. “She’s lucky there’s not a lot of one-eyed cats around.”

“Foggy’s being mean,” Theo said to Sadie as he scratched behind her ear with his available hand, “but he did clean your litter box. So you owe him.”

She mewed at him and resumed using his armpit as a place to smush her face up against as though this was the only way to satisfy some need deep inside her. She only stopped long enough to howl at anyone who dared to come within three feet of the bed. Theo’s mom had to maneuver her away around her to kiss Theo.

“Call us and let us know how you’re doing later.”

“Mom, I’m gonna be fine.” They had been over this. 

“The boy needs his space,” his father said. “He’s had to put up with us for long enough.”

Theo was too tired to object to being called ‘boy’ and all he had done was ride two blocks in a cab. But he wasn’t willing to admit it, so he patiently waited for them to leave. He barely got his shoes off before he was in bed, arm wrapped around his cat, fast asleep.

She wouldn’t leave him alone, which was fine until he opened his computer. He tried to distract her with food, but she ate quickly, and he ended up sticking her in the bathroom and turning up the audio on his headphones for long enough to check his subscriptions and finally get some time to himself. When he went into the bathroom to free her and shower she nipped at his toes but didn’t cause any real damage. The pain was building in his shoulder, but he wanted to hold off on the opiods. He ate dinner, texted his mom that he was fine, and hesitantly smoked a little weed with Blue Planet running on his computer. 

Matt called after dark. “Can I come by?”

“If you want to, but you’re not going to get near me. Sadie’s being possessive.” She was currently sitting really high up on his chest, practically holding him down to the bed in the process. Occasionally he had to nudge her to the side when her weight drifted to his injuries. 

“That’s fine,” Matt said. He sounded amused. Whatever he was up to, it did not take him that long to get there, though he was still wearing his work clothes. Theo was drifting and didn’t offer him a meal, just pointed to the fridge, but Matt shook his head. Sure enough, Sadie didn’t move a damn inch and growled softly when Matt crawled under the covers. 

“You might have to go in the morning,” Theo said. “Mom’s not supposed to just barge in here but she might.”

“Your parents clocked us while they were still in the airport.”

“Really?”

“No,” Matt said, “but the fact that I went to feed Sadie on my own did give it away.”

“ _Fuck_.”

“Apparently I don’t rate as family as much as I thought I did, because if I break your heart, I’m out,” he explained. “Her words, not mine. She was nice about it, though. I think she’s just relieved that you have someone and it’s not some mysterious stranger.”

“She doesn’t know how mysterious you are.”

“That’s for the best,” Matt said. “You’re in pain.”

“I’m not going to get addicted and end up in NA with Ward.”

“Did you take any since you left the hospital?”

Theo shook his head. He reached over to get the bottle of pills and Sadie readjusted herself on his chest. “Ow, ow, Sadie, no. You can’t sit right there.” He pushed her onto his stomach and she didn’t complain. He swallowed two pills with the end of his green tea. “You’re a hypocrite, you know that Matt? I bet you’ve never taken a painkiller in your life.”

“I’m too Catholic for that.” 

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” Theo said. Pills took longer than IV medication, but he eventually descended into a druggy haze that took the edge of everything enough to sleep. 

Matt left in the morning, but not after he kissed Theo good morning and made him a shake. Theo drank half of it and went right back to sleep, feeling disorientated but happy to be in his own bed. Sadie remained resting on some part of his body, occasionally stepping on the wrong part, but she responded quickly when he flinched by hopping away and then trying again somewhere else. 

His goal of the morning was to get outside and walk, and he wanted better coffee. He felt like it was time for something he probably should have done by phone, and stopped at the liquor store to buy a decent quality bottle of scotch before looking up Jessica Jones’s work address. Yelp said she took walk-ins in what was definitely just an apartment complex converted into an office. He knocked on the door to Alias Investigations and got a loud, annoyed, “It’s open!” as a response.

He entered. Jessica was behind her desk across from him. He guessed she didn’t have Matt’s level of powers, because she looked surprised by his entrance.

“Hi,” he said. He would have waved, but one arm was still in the sling, and the other held the bottle with a little bow on the label. “I thought I should, um, thank you in person. For saving my life.”

“I figured I would never hear the end of it from Nelson if I didn’t. And probably Murdock, too. And he can be a pain,” she qualified, but she didn’t sound as dismissive as she wanted to be. “They sent me a case of bourbon. Don’t tell them I said it, but they have good taste.”

He held up his bottle. “Do you not want it?”

“Do you know me?” she said, and he set the bottle down on the desk for her. “There should be a glass in the sink if you want some. If you’re supposed to have any.”

“I’m not.” But he went for the glass anyway, and pulled two out of the dish drain. She did not keep up her apartment particularly well, but it was a lot bigger than his and he was not about to pass judgment on a superhero. When he returned to the office, she had already opened the bottle and she poured two glasses, a full one for her and a more responsible number of fingers for him, and gestured for him to sit in the chair for clients.

His words abandoned him for a moment. “So you can fly?”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much. But Brett said you did.”

She was not impressed at Brett’s detective skills. “It’s more like jumping.”

“I think it’s really cool.”

“It’s not. It looks - ridiculous.” 

He emptied the glass. “Are you bulletproof? I heard they shot at you.”

“No, but I don’t bleed as much, and I heal faster,” she said. “A good shot would have taken me out, but they weren’t good shots. They barely hit you.”

“It doesn’t feel like barely,” he admitted. “Thank you. And - I really wish I could remember it.”

“It is a nice change of pace to use my ... abilities ... for something other than stalking cheating husbands and tolerating vast quantities of alcohol.”

“That’s a power?”

“It’s more like an annoyance. I’m a very expensive drunk.” Not that she wasn’t putting her back into it, emptying a full glass early in the morning. 

Theo didn’t know what drove Jessica to drink, but Matt didn’t know or didn’t want to tell him. When asked, he just said, “It’s bad.” And that was _Matt_ talking. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t kick the shit out of those guys, but it probably worked out for the best. Matt definitely wanted a swing at them,” Jessica said. Boy, she sure didn’t sugarcoat things.

“I wouldn’t have told him to do that.”

“That’s why he didn’t ask you.” 

“Do you know who tipped Castle off in the first place? Because I don’t think it was Brett.”

Jessica shook her head. “No one’s paying me to. And I wouldn’t anyway. Anyone who asks the Punisher to do something for them is fucked up.” 

“Yeah, I suppose.” He hadn’t really thought about it. He’d been too wrapped up in the family element of it. “Look, if you ever want a sandwich - you’re basically family now.”

“Don’t you dare put my face on a plaque,” she said. 

“Why would I? You didn’t die.”

That made Jessica smile, and it seemed like not a lot of things made Jessica smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: I am looking for a backup beta for the remaining 22,000 words of this fic. My awesome beta has some real-life scheduling issues. She can continue to work on it, but the posting pace will slow down a little bit, so if anyone can help out, email me at djclawson at gmail. Thank you!

Theo’s day was more sleeping and a celebration dinner at his parents’ place. Foggy came over beforehand, for whatever reason, as if Theo needed help walking a block. He was telling him all about his latest case (something involving mild arson) when Theo realized they’d come to the storefront. The door’s glass panels hadn’t been replaced yet and it was boarded up with wood instead. There was a sign in the window that said ‘Closed Until Further Notice’ and another below ‘Nelson and Murdock Clients Use Side Entrance’ and Theo realized that yeah, they had to still use the shop until their new place was ready, but the front of the shop was unusually dark and he couldn’t see inside.

His whole side burned and next thing he knew, he was leaning against the wall and Foggy was telling him to breathe. He wanted to say something was wrong with his shoulder, but he couldn’t get the words out. He felt dizzy, and he must have wavered, because Foggy held him up. 

“Easy,” Foggy said, trying to hide his alarm. “You okay?”

Theo nodded even though it was a lie.

“Did you remember something?”

“I don’t think so.” His memories of the robbery were stuck in a haze. No new details had emerged since Brett’s initial interview. “Hold on.” He tilted his head back. “I just need to ... not throw up right now.”

“I think I would throw up if I ate anything in your fridge,” Foggy said. “Take your time, okay? And don’t pass out. This sidewalk is already pretty gross and I’m bad at catching people.”

Foggy was good to his word, and Theo took the minute or two he needed before they went upstairs to their parents’ place, and they pretended like nothing had happened. Bess Mahoney was happy to finally see him, and was full of good-natured criticism about how skinny and pale he looked despite all the food she’d been sending him. Matt, Marci, and Brett showed up separately on their own schedules, and Theo realized this was the first time they’d all sat down to dinner around his parents’ table since Christmas. 

“I had to go to the East side to get a decent roast,” his mother said. “I don’t know what kind of business they think they’re running, but I went to two places before I found something that looked decent. Terrible. Just terrible.”

“What can I say, Mom?” Foggy asked. “You drove out all of the competition.”

“Sorry to disappoint everyone, but I don’t think we’re going to eat well until we get the counter fridge fixed,” his father said despite the massive feast in front of them. “Replace the glass on Tuesday, my ass. Al’s only still in business because Amazon doesn’t deliver glass sheeting yet.”

“Oh, shut up,” his mother said. “You’ve been friends with him for years.”

“And I expect him to come through for me!”

Theo looked at his potatoes and realized he didn’t know the state of things at the shop. He didn’t know if they had things on order, or had plans to reopen, or what had happened with his employees. He hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t asked about it, and aside from the general welfare of the people he paid, he didn’t care. He was generally silent through dinner, answering questions that were asked of him, but not a lot else. He lied about his pain level, but told the truth about what he did all day (sleep) and how happy he was to be home (very). Instead of helping them clear the table, he was excused to doze on the couch. When he came back to the table for dessert, Bess and Marci were gone, and the mood of the room had changed.

“Honey,” his mother said, “there’s something we have to tell you.”

Fuck. “Okay.”

“There’s no reason to be alarmed,” she said in a voice that indicated the opposite, and she looked at Foggy.

“Duncan was released from the hospital,” Foggy explained, that backstabber, “and he made bail. Now he’s supposed to - “

“ _ What _ ? How the fuck did that happen? How the fuck did he make bail?” Wells of anger Theo didn’t even know he had rose up within him. “He tried to fucking murder me!” 

“He’s not a flight risk,” Matt said in his calm lawyer voice. “He’s never left the Tri-State area in his life. He doesn’t have friends abroad. He doesn’t even have a passport. He even agreed to hand in his driver’s license.”

“How did he have the money for bail? He doesn’t have any fucking money! That was like, the reason for the whole thing, that he didn’t have any fucking money!”

“Theo - “ his mother started, but his father shushed her.

“Bail was set at a hundred thousand,” Matt continued. “He only had to post a tenth of that.”

“His parents put their house up as collateral,” Foggy said. 

“What? That’s their house! That’s their fucking home!”

“And if you needed money, we would do the same thing,” his mother cut in. “No matter what you did. He’s their son. They’re not going to abandon him.”

“One of his co-conspirators already took a plea and will testify against him. And he agreed to hand over the gun. Even if DNA testing on their clothes and shoes doesn’t reveal anything, it’s a strong case. Means, motive, and opportunity. He’s not supposed to go near you, but if you file a restraining order - “

“ _ A restraining order _ .”

“You just have to sign some paperwork in front of a judge to get one. We’ll walk you through it. We’ll - “

He didn’t hear the rest of Foggy’s speech with all of the blood flowing to his head and the pounding in his ears. “ _ Fuck _ .” He couldn’t breathe again. His chest hurt. His whole chest hurt, not just the side with bullet holes in it. “Fuck, I can’t - ”

“I knew it was too soon for this - “

“Will you just be quiet, can’t you see he - “

He passed out.

  
  


He woke up back on the couch. He hadn’t been out for long - everyone was still flipping out and yelling at each other to give him space, except for Matt, who was deceptively calm because he was just  _ listening _ and doing his Matt Murdock thing. 

Theo closed his eyes. There was nothing wrong with his chest, beyond all of the usual things, but he wanted this all to go away. Matt managed to clear everyone else out, banishing them to the kitchen, where they could fight amongst themselves. Theo didn’t care.

“You should have just killed him,” he said to Matt. “I - I should feel worse for saying that. I should feel worse for feeling that. But it would have been so much easier. For all of us.”

Matt didn’t respond, except to help him sit up.

“You should have killed him!” Theo shouted. “Why the fuck didn’t you just kill him! Why the fuck did you have to make this so G-ddamn complicated for me? You think I haven’t had enough of this shit? Someone knew better than you and called up Frank fucking Castle to do a job and you stopped him, you motherfucker! What kind of shitty devil are you!” He hit Matt in the chest. Not hard - he just kind of slapped him. “Where the fuck where you when I needed you? Helping bail out some criminal somewhere so I could bleed out on the floor of my own damn shop! Which is also your office! What the irresponsible fuck, Matt!” He was breathing deeply enough for it to hurt on his right side. “ _ Fucking say something! _ ”

Matt’s voice was impossibly small. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course you’re fucking sorry, what kind of sociopath wouldn’t be sorry?” He was wheezing now. “You’re my fucking boyfriend, you save all kinds of random assholes, you go to bat for people who should be in prison, where the fuck were you? And why can’t you make this stop? Why can’t you make everything stop!”

Theo wanted to cry but he was just - too angry. He was angry enough to ignore all of the pain this was causing him. He was too angry to curl up and die, even though part of him wanted to do that, too. 

Matt waited. Matt waited through whatever Theo wanted to say, but Theo knew he didn’t have the strength for more. He sat back and tried to keep himself from throwing up on his nice, considerate boyfriend’s shoes. 

“I can’t make it stop,” Matt admitted. “I can’t fix you, Theo. I can’t fix my mistakes. I can’t fix anything. I’m not going to pretend that I can. You have a right to be angry at me.”

Except he didn’t, really. Theo had no right to be angry at Matt. Matt did everything right, as much as Matt ever could have. Matt was the reason Duncan was caught, or caught as early as he was, and was suffering. Matt knew Jessica Jones, and Jessica Jones was the reason Theo was alive. 

“I just want everything to stop,” Theo said in a hoarse whisper.

“I know.”

Theo tried to collect himself as Foggy came in, standing in a very defensive posture with both hands up. “If I can, um, interject while my parents don’t legally hear anything that might have been said here.” He looked at Theo. “I think I know where you can go.”

 

  
  
Matt got carsick; that was how he got out of the ride. And there wasn’t room in the rental car anyway, with the four of them and Sadie in her carrier and the trunk loaded with supplies and food because Mom was convinced that no one knew how to cook for Theo but her. Foggy and Pop played what seemed like ten-thousand rounds of “I spy” but the answer was always trees and billboards until they agreed to count the things pictured on the billboards, and Theo slept through most of it. 

“Trust me, we’re not gonna miss it,” Foggy told their parents. “There’s only one house with like, a million pinwheels.”

Everything was so green - except the pinwheels, which were just about every color but green. The car came to a stop and Theo’s parents looked at each other as if prepping themselves, and Theo realized wow, this probably was a big deal for them.

“He doesn’t move real fast,” Theo said when his father honked the horn. Devorah was the first one to come all the way out to greet them. 

“He’s ninety-two, so that makes sense,” Pop said, and took a deep breath before he opened his door and exited the car, where Mom was already introducing herself to Devorah. Theo and Foggy hung back so that Pop could have his moment with - well, his pop, who appeared on the porch, leaning on his cane. They exchanged a few quiet words before embracing, now two very old men who never thought they would see each other again, and Theo was glad that if one good thing could come of this mess, this would be it.

There was a lot of fussing over Theo, but not too much, because there was so much else for everyone to say to each other as they started to maneuver around this new set of relationships. Devorah showed Theo the guest room, and Foggy brought in Theo’s luggage. They’d had cats before, Devorah explained, so having a litter box in the laundry room (they had a whole laundry room!) wouldn’t be a big deal, and if they just were careful about what doors were open and what were kept closed, Sadie wouldn’t get anywhere where she could do damage. Cats weren’t supposed to go on vacation, but Theo couldn’t stand to leave her again or put her in a kennel. 

“Pat can live outside,” Devorah said. “I mean, she is a chicken.” 

“Sadie’s an inside cat,” Theo replied, though that was only true because he kept her inside. She had once been an outside cat. But his grandad wanted to be as accommodating as possible. 

He opened Sadie’s carrier and she stepped out hesitantly, sniffing every inch of the way before staring back up at him as if for an explanation. He supposed she was confused since this wasn’t home or the vet’s, and those were the only two places she knew. 

“I’d tell you not to destroy anything, but you’re gonna do what you want,” he said to her. 

“She’s very cute,” Devorah offered.

“Yeah, don’t go near her,” Foggy said as he passed by with a bag of litter. “And how much does a new chicken cost?”

Devorah ignored that. “You must be tired,” she said to Theo. 

He was about to explain that he’d slept for most of the drive, then realized that he was tired anyway, and before he could explain all that, she told him to lie down. They were probably close in age, but she had more authority in this house, so he didn’t argue. The sheets were cool and Sadie prowled around a bit before leaping onto the bed and climbing onto her usual perch on his head. 

He didn’t sleep long, and discovered that other people needed a rest, too. He found his father and grandfather in the computer room, going through family photos on facebook pages.

“Your mother’s sleeping,” Pop explained. She had done the driving. “So is your brother. He’s going to take the wheel on the way home. And I’m just showing Pop every embarrassing photo of you I can find.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said, and pulled up an extra chair. They were looking at a photo of Theo and Foggy in the bathtub - Theo looking generally horrified to be sharing it with his brother, who looked to be around two. Foggy was trying to eat his rubber ducky. “This is probably the exact moment I decided to shower like an adult. Thanks for getting that on film.”

The next set was of him at various science fairs, holding trophies. Most of them were for participation because they didn’t have real judging in his school, but he won the one year they did for building his own proto-drone that managed to fly for five minutes before dropping to the ground and breaking immediately. His father didn’t mention that part in the explanation. And there was Foggy on his stool at the shop, with a T-shirt that said “Pickle Master” because he was always eating them and claiming he made them himself, when all he really did was sprinkle extra salt in after their mother had done the real work. But he was three at the time, and everything he did was adorable. 

“This was before he wanted to be a fancy-pants lawyer,” his father said.

“I like lawyers just fine,” Grandad said. “I married one.”

When everyone was up, they sat down for a meal prepared especially for them. It was still vegetarian, but nobody complained. They even seemed to enjoy it. The conversation was light, with so many stories to share, and for a moment they seemed like an ordinary family, sitting down to an ordinary dinner around the table, and no one had been estranged for thirty years, and Theo felt a sense of peace he had not felt in a long time. 

Then it was time to get back on the road. It was a long day for all of them.

“I’m so proud of you,” his mother said to him in the driveway. 

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You survived.” She cupped his cheek. “You’re still surviving. That’s enough.” 

  
  


Theo settled in easily enough. There was no set schedule. All he had to do was take his medicine, do some beginner physical therapy exercises, and rest. Before leaving New York, he saw a psychiatrist Misha recommended, and was prescribed Ativan to be taken as needed (“Try it for sleep”). He still had his Oxycontin, which he needed at night, but skipped the daytime dose. 

“I know weed relaxes you but you’re not supposed to smoke,” David said. Theo had told him none of this. “How do you handle edibles?”

“I want to relax, not get super-duper high.” 

“Our friend makes them - he’s very good at a therapeutic dose.”

And Theo wasn’t about to say no to drugs - the non-addictive kind - so he had half a pot brownie, which gave him an sense of euphoria and only mild giggles, and took his mind off things for a few hours. The front yard was filled with Grandad’s art, but the backyard faced the rolling hills and that was where Theo and Grandad spent most of their time, sitting out in the sun on lawnchairs, both of them sharing a tendency to nod off. 

They asked him relatively few questions. They were told just about everything about the case and his medical condition, and they didn’t ask about it, but they also didn’t ask mundane questions except to see how he was feeling and if he needed anything. It was as if they seemed to sense that he needed emotional space when he was being jackhammered with texts and messages on his phone. 

“My grandson is coming on Sunday,” David told him. “Is that all right?”

“Yeah, of course.” He didn’t know why it wouldn’t be. 

“He likes making these model anime robots,” David continued. “We’re going to go into town and buy him a new kit. Do you want to come?”

He hadn’t been out of the house in two days, so he said, “Yeah.”

It was one of those quaint little towns he thought only existed in movies, just with the occasional encroaching McDonalds or Starbucks. There were lots of places advertising crystals for healing and various other uses, and a bookshop full of self-published books with ugly covers about spells and divine mastery, whatever that was, and a few books on Buddhism that looked legit, so Theo bought one, or tried to buy one, but his grandfather insisted on paying. There was also a place to make and paint pottery but they said they had friends with a better workshop and full kiln. 

“Oh, I used to make these,” Theo said when they got to the model shop. David’s grandson liked the Gundam sets, but Theo was looking at the planes. “I can’t believe they still sell the ones that launch. It seems like that would be banned when you can’t even buy fireworks.”

“Well, I do owe you a lot of birthday presents,” his grandfather said, and bought him a kit of the Saturn V rocket. 

They got dinner in town and returned with fresh meat for Sadie and other groceries.

“Gross,” Theo said when he discovered a dead mouse in her water bowl. “Grandad! You have mice!”

His grandfather came over and looked down. “I suppose it’s better than traps. They die so slowly in traps. I can’t bear to set them out.”

“I’m not rewarding you,” Theo said to Sadie as he set down her food bowl. She did look especially pleased with herself. “This is not a reward.”

On Sunday, Theo met David’s son and grandson, the latter of whom was about nine. They lived in Albany, so they were more available to come. There was a divorce going through or something - some complicated situation that wasn’t explained to Theo, and David spent most of the time talking to his son on the porch while his grandson Josh worked on his new Gundan set with Grandad, whom he called “Grandpa Two.” He was wearing a Spider-man T shirt, and when Theo revealed he had met Spider-man, Josh just about lost it and Theo became his new best friend.

“Did he show you his web shooters?”

“No. He said they were busted. They don’t work so well in the cold.”

“Did you see him beat up a bad guy?”

“It was more like he showed up at my boyfriend’s apartment and asked for a place to sleep for the night because he lives far away.”

“Where does he live?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does he live in space?”

“No, I think he lives somewhere in the city.”

“Do you know Iron Man?”

“Fortunately, no. I know Iron Fist, though.”

“Who’s Iron Fist?”

Theo smirked. “He’s a guy who has a glowing fist and he tells just about everybody about it as soon as he meets them.”

“I think Spider-man is cooler.”

“Then I’ll have to tell Iron Fist you think that.”

Only later that night, when Josh was gone, did Grandad ask, “Do you really know superheroes?”

“Please, Grandad. They’re so easy to run into that I’ve slept with two of them. And I think I might have had a chance with Thor, but I was in relationship.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” David admitted.

“I wish I was joking about the Thor thing. He’ll have to be the one that got away.”


	15. Chapter 15

Theo texted occasionally, but didn’t stay in contact with many people. The announcement on the family channel was that he was staying somewhere upstate for his recovery and that was that. He spoke to his mom, but the only person he really called regularly was Matt, and that was because Matt didn’t text. Matt said there were no updates on the case for him, which Theo was just fine with. Matt said he sounded better and asked if the Ativan was working. Theo said it was. He didn’t need the Oxy at bedtime every night and he didn’t need to be stoned all day. 

He went to an urgent care clinic when it was time to have his bandages removed and the wounds checked. His shoulder was stiff and he couldn’t raise his arm higher than his shoulder, but he had been told that would get better with time and physical therapy. 

“You want to go with Devorah to goat yoga?” David asked, as if that was a completely ordinary question.

“The heck is that?” Theo worked to tone down his cursing now that he was outside of the city and didn’t seem to be around people who did much it it.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. You do yoga and baby goats climb on top of you.”

“Why? Are they licensed yoga teachers?”

David shrugged. That was his entire answer.

Every day, Grandad took a long walk as his form of exercise, or if it was too hot, he went to the community pool and did the same thing but in the water. Theo went with him, and slowly met all of the neighbors. They knew absolutely nothing about why he was there (or even that his grandfather was estranged from his own family) and that was great. They were shocked to learn Grandad had been a butcher, and now Theo was, too. 

“But he loves animals!”

“Uh, yeah, so do I,” Theo said in the front yard of some neighbor while he stared at her pet alpaca. “I love animals. Some people love eating them.”

It was only in the second week that Theo started to want to talk about what happened and what was going on with his life. Grandad and David didn’t talk back much, just listened to what he had to say, which came out in fits and spurts. He didn’t know what he was doing with his life. He didn’t know if any of this was worth it. He didn’t know if his relationship with his boyfriend was going anywhere. He didn’t know what would happen to his family, if they would be feuding all over again. If he had to take the stand, a lot of things could come up that he didn’t want to come up or talk about with anyone, much less a jury. Every life choice could be called into question to make him seem like a less sympathetic victim. He did drugs, he had a meandering, secret sex life, and he’d commited fraud. He wasn’t proud of any of that but it would be fair game to the defense. Matt and Foggy warned him about it, and they didn’t even give much detail. It was all just a terrible mess and all because  _ he _ got shot, not the other way around. Because he wouldn’t give Duncan a job.

“I can’t imagine why that would make you want to leave New York,” Grandad said. “Sounds like it’s all loads of fun.”

Grandad had stories about old New York, and growing up in the forties, and being secretly gay when it was illegal to be gay. He was definitely leaving out the grosser details, and he said some of it was actually fun and exciting and the danger made it even a little more exciting. 

“And I wasn’t at Stonewall,” Grandad said. “Not every gay person was at Stonewall. We didn’t know it was going to be a thing. And I definitely wasn’t going to be throwing any bricks at police. I was related to too many of them.”

David was of a different generation. He became active in the community when AIDS was a thing, and it completely changed the landscape of the club scene. But he was also experienced at sneaking out behind his family’s back, something which not all of them had forgiven him for - not because he was gay, but because it was a betrayal of his marriage, and how long he did it for, and how long the divorce proceedings took. 

Theo, meanwhile, learned how to use a condom in sex ed. “We could write a book. An oral history that we could never let anyone we actually know read. And we would have to change a lot of names.”

“Oh, I’m sure I never slept with anyone really famous,” Grandad said.

“Well, I did. So a couple names.” He clarified, “Like one. Maybe two. I’m not sure how fame works.”

  
  


When Mom bugged Theo about Andy again, he initially ignored her, but when Foggy got in on it, Theo agreed to Skype with him, to show that he was indeed alive and well and not mad at him. He discussed it with Grandad and David, and they all agreed now was not the right time for a major revelation about the family, especially when it might seen like Grandad favored one son over the other, so they agreed he wouldn’t actually explain where he was. He logged into Skype in their computer room.

“Holy shit,” Andy said when they finally got both screens up. “You look much better.”

“Really?”

“Last time I saw you, you were half-dead,” Andy reminded him. Theo didn’t remember that visit so well, just that it happened. “How are you?”

“Uh, finally getting through most of the day without drugs, so pretty good. And I got all the bandages off and I can shower like a normal person again. But I can’t raise my arm beyond, like - “ He demonstrated, raising his right arm as far as it would go. “I have to bend at the elbow or I look like I’m doing a heil Hitler. That’s what I have to do for my physical therapy exercises.”

“Is it gonna get better?”

“It should get much better. Which is good, because this is my cleaver arm.” He made a chopping gesture, then returned his hand to Sadie, who was sleeping in his lap. “How are you?”

“Okay,” Andy said. “Mary’s sleeping through the night, so that’s been really good. And work was uncomfortable at first but now it’s back to normal. People are less surprised about Duncan and more shocked that they were side-by-side with the Punisher all these months while he was throwing around that giant hammer. And the nail gun.” 

“I’ve never met him,” Theo said, which was still technically true. He wasn’t in contact with Karen, and if he had been, he wouldn’t have asked where Frank was. 

“Doesn’t Foggy know Daredevil or something?”

“Everyone in Hell’s Kitchen knows Daredevil.”

“Bullshit,” Andy said. “So, yeah. Let’s not talk about legal stuff.”

“Foggy said the same thing.”

“My parents are okay though. I mean, considering. And the kids sort of know the story. I’m not sure how much they’ve picked up on their own. We try to monitor their internet use but I’m sure Olivia’s found a way around it by now. But Duncan is not allowed to come here. There wasn’t a fight - it was just Jo’s executive decision as a mother.” He sighed. He looked tired. “So where are you? All Foggy will tell me is that they sent you to a farm upstate.”

“It’s not really a farm. A backyard vegetable patch and a pet chicken is not a farm. It’s like, one of those places where hippies retire,” Theo said. “I’ll tell you about it when I get back.”

“Do you know when that’s going to be?”

He knew he had to get back to life eventually. He didn’t have unlimited funds to continue paying his rent, and Pop was reopening the shop. But he’d tried not to think about it as much as possible. “Probably sooner rather than later. I have to go back to work eventually. But it’s been really good to get away from everything. And everybody. Even, you know, Foggy. And my parents. Just - out of the city.” 

“It looks like it’s been really good for you,” Andy said. “I’m really glad you called. Everyone wants to see you. Can I get Jo?”

“Yeah, fuck, you can get Jo.” It felt good to curse again.

Andy left and came back with Jo, who was carrying Mary. “Hi.” It took her a moment to get seated properly next to Andy.

“She’s sitting up!” Theo was so proud of his goddaughter.

“Yeah, she’s finally there. Aren’t you, sweetie?” Jo turned Mary around on her lap so that she was facing Theo. “Say hi! Say hi to Uncle Theo!”

“Ba!” Mary said, though it was not clear that that was a response to her mother, or that she noticed the screen at all.

“She’s saying words!” Theo was excited.

“They’re babytalk,” Andy said. “Words are another few months maybe. Earlier if we’re lucky.”

“Colin was the one who didn’t make any sounds for almost a year,” Jo said. “Drove us crazy with worry. But it turns out he was just holding back.” She was very good at balancing Mary, who was far more alert and eager to touch things around her than she had been last time Theo saw her. “Nice haircut, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Getting it cut so it only came down to just below his ears was one of the first things he did in town. “I’ve had long hair for so long I forgot how much easier it is to wash it when it’s shorter. Everything was complicated when I had to wrap myself in saran wrap when I wanted to get clean.” The only thing that kept him from growing a full depression beard was that he knew it made him look like Charles Manson. “I got all of the cards you had the kids send while I was in the hospital. They’re in a stack with the others back in my apartment. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of them.”

“Junk them, unless you want to memorialize this period in your life,” Jo said. “There will be other cards for Uncle Theo. Oh, and the kids are going to ask to see your scars, but don’t show them if they’re not healed enough yet.”

“They’re on their way.”

“I’ll let you use your discretion,” she said, and handed Mary off to Andy while she gathered the kids, who did in fact want to see his wounds, including the exit hole on his back, and were not satisfied until he pulled his shirt all the way up and showed them.

“That’s so cool!” Olivia said, until she got a glare from her dad. “I mean, um, I’m sorry you got shot, Uncle Theo.”

“Your Uncle Foggy also has scars,” he told them. “But yeah, getting shot really isn’t any fun.”

“If you eat, does it come out the holes?”

“Did Uncle Duncan say he was sorry?”

“What happened to your cat? Uncle Theo, I didn’t even know you had a cat!”

“Kids! What did I say?” Andy half-shouted. “Theo, feel free to ignore some of those questions.”

“It’s okay,” he said, though he definitely wasn’t answering the one about Duncan. “She’s not a very social cat. She hides when other people come over. And she used to be a street cat. She got into a fight and her eye had to be removed at the shelter where I found her.” At the moment, Sadie was half-gnawing on his arm, having woken up when he lifted up his shirt. “Her name is Sadie.”

“Hi Sadie!” Ruth said, and waved. 

“Uncle Theo, can you bring her next time?”

“Uncle Theo, when are you going to come visit us? And can we come visit you?”

“Daddy said you’re on a farm. Are you on a farm?”

“Kids, your uncle went upstate to recover from his injuries,” Andy said. “He’s there to relax. He’ll be back when he’s better and we can visit him then. Until then, he needs his rest, so say good night, okay?”

They begrudgingly agreed to their father’s orders and said their goodnights, and Jo signed off too because Mary was getting cranky, leaving Andy alone with Theo.

“However long you want to stay, stay,” Andy told him. “I’m not supposed to say this, but they’re trying to get him to take a plea deal. A trial would be a huge gamble and ... it would be a mess. For everybody. But Duncan doesn’t want to go back to prison. But he should have thought of that earlier, shouldn’t he?”

Theo didn’t have it in him to discuss Duncan directly. “How are things with you and your parents?”

“Not terrible, not great. I go over to check on them a lot and Duncan and I are on speaking terms. Jo said she would take all the heat for not letting him come over to see his nieces and nephew and she did. She went over there and told them that was her decision and that was final and they could take it or leave it. I’ve never seen her stand up to my parents like that. I’m really proud of her.” He swallowed. The stress was showing on his face and in his watery eyes. “My parents are - it’s really hard on them. They - they know he’s guilty, but they want to protect him. The robbery they’ll talk about, but the attempted murder charges, that’s not something they discuss. Things are just going to be strained for a while, even after Duncan goes to jail. Or if he somehow gets off, I don’t know. Jo said I have to think of my family first, and my family is her and the kids.”

“I think she’s right,” Theo said. “You’re the adult in the room.”

“And she’s always right, anyway. Good thing I married her because the kids had to get their brains from somewhere.” He shook his head. “Okay, I said I wouldn’t talk about it, but I did. I should stop.”

“It sounds like you needed to talk about it,” Theo said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks. I need a fuckin’ flowchart to keep track of who knows what at this point.”

“You’ll get through it,” Theo told him. “We’ll all get through this. Somehow.” 

“In time for Foggy’s wedding.”

“Yeah, definitely.” It was good to have a timeline. “It was nice to talk to you. I’m keeping my distance from everybody because I’ve needed it but I’m glad we talked.”

“Me, too. Hang in there.”

“You, too.”

Andy disconnected and Theo rolled back the chair. To his left, his grandfather was standing in the doorway.

“I might have overheard a little.”

“Things are fucked up, Grandad. They’re really fucked up and I can’t fix it.”

His grandfather sat down on the chair next to him. “It’s not your responsibility to fix it.” 

But Theo cried anyway, and his grandfather held him while he did it. He hadn’t cried in a while, so while crying always felt miserable, it felt good to get it out. 

“Some things are not your responsibility,” his grandfather repeated when Theo was finished. “They were not your fault and they are not your responsibility to fix. The only thing you have to do is decide what is important to you. And who is important to you.” He took the empty box of tissues from Theo. “When you were a baby, your mother would be so exhausted that she would just come over and drop you off and then pass out on our couch. We even had a crib for you at our place. And then Jeanie would do the same thing with Andy, so the two of you would be in there together, and even though there was plenty of space and Eleanor would put you two as far away from each other as possible, somehow you would two would end up kicking or hitting each other and make each other cry and wake everybody up. You couldn’t help it. Babies don’t know what they’re doing. Everything is new and scary. But we kept you together anyway. Probably because we didn’t want to splurge on another crib and your mothers kept showing up.” He put a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Foggy was born. I would have liked to have been. But we can’t go back and change that.”

“I thought Foggy cried a lot,” Theo said, “but Mom said it was a normal amount. I was kind of disappointed in the beginning.”

“Why?”

“They told me I was getting a little brother, and I thought this was gonna be a person I could play with. I even started moving some of my old toys to his room before he was born. Then Pop took me to the hospital to see him and he was just a little baby. He couldn’t do anything but cry. I was like, how am I going to play with a baby? I put toys in his crib but he didn’t do anything with them. I didn’t really understand that that’s how everybody started out. Mom kept taking all of the toys out and explaining that they weren’t baby toys. She was serious about it but behind her Pop would just laugh.” 

“Did you meet his mother?”

“Uh, I think so.” He tried to think back. “Yeah. I saw her in the hospital room. We were introduced but I don’t remember anything about her. How did you know they used a surrogate?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but after you were born, they had some problems. They didn’t know if they were going to have another kid.” He threw his hands up. “So I was wondering where Foggy came from, when you two showed up at my door. But - forget about it. It’s in the past. Don’t say anything to Foggy. Or your parents. It’s not important.”

“Okay,” Theo said. He hadn’t thought about Foggy’s surrogate mother in years. Maybe since Foggy was born. Maybe Foggy didn’t even know about it. 

“You did the right thing, talking to Andy, even if it was hard,” Grandad said. “Do you want anything before bed?”

“You don’t have to serve me, Grandad. And you probably shouldn’t.”

“I know. Save my energy, right? I got to make it to that wedding!” 

  
  


It was raining the next day, so Grandad didn’t take his walk, and Theo wasn’t sure if the humidity was bothering his joints or not. He hoped that wouldn’t be a thing, being able to predict rain with scar tissue. He worked on the model, with was immensely complicated and required him to keep a lot of plastic parts perfectly organized, which meant it took a lot of time, which was good.

David sat with him when Grandad was resting and Theo told him about Ward’s offer to work for Rand.

“It wouldn’t be designing spaceships, but it would be working in my field again.” Though it was a very long time since Theo thought of anything but butchery as ‘his field.’ “I would probably have to take night classes or something and get a master’s, but I looked it up, and Rand sponsors employees who need degrees and certificates for their work. And Glassdoor says it’s become a really great place to work since the change in leadership. All kinds of raises and benefits.” 

By now, David knew most of Theo’s life story. “What did you do at Hammer?”

“Smoked weed and went to meetings,” Theo replied. “But seriously, I can’t talk about anything I actually worked on there. It’s all hidden behind massive NDAs. I had to sign about a book worth of contracts to be formally hired. All I can say is, I think I was spending about ten percent of my time on real projects, ninety on corporate office bullshit. My life was basically the movie Office Space. Or, the first twenty minutes of the movie, before the plot happens.”

“But the other ten percent, you liked?”

“I liked making things. I liked designing things. I’ve always liked making things with my hands. It’s one of the reasons I like being a butcher. It takes some skill to make a good cut of meat. Something people will go out of their way to get and pay a lot of money for.” He looked for the solvent to get the model glue - the serious stuff, not Elmer’s - off his hands before it dried. He’d already lost a layer of skin to this stuff. “But I’d have to give up on the shop. Close it or sell it or something. I don’t think I’m ready to do that, even if the thought of walking in there makes me sick.”

“Well, it sounds like you have two good options,” David said. “You have an opening to pursue your intellectual interests at a friendly company where you have social ties to get you through the hiring process. And you have a shop that you partially own and know how to run and still love, even if you might have a little PTSD from the shooting. Either one could work out well for you. It’s a good position to be in. A position of strength.”

Theo had never heard it described that way. And he hadn’t been diagnosed with PTSD - that seemed like a big leap to him - but he let it pass without comment. David was a highly intelligent man. He thought things through - Theo had watched him do it over the past two weeks. So he was probably right about at least some of it.

“You don’t have to decide now, obviously,” David said. “So don’t let it become this big hurdle to get over. I think if you go back to work at the shop, you’ll be able to figure out what’s more important to you. Your instincts have been good so far.”

“You think so? Really?”

“You left the corporate world to do what you love, and you’ve spent years doing just that. And that time with your family - that’s priceless. I’ve missed years of my children’s lives that I wish I could get back because of coming out and the divorce. I’m envious of you. A lot of people have trouble establishing what’s important to them and standing up for it, but it sounds like that’s never been a problem for you. I would say you’ve been very lucky, but I can understand why this is not the time to say it.”

Theo looked down at the plastic pieces scattered across the part of the table covered in newspaper as he wiped his hands with solvent. “No, you’re probably right. Everything’s just a big mess right now. But before, things were going great. I ran the shop, I had a great boyfriend, my parents were happily retired - that was good. Maybe I can get back to that.” But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what he wanted. “Thanks, David.” He didn’t have a title or nickname for his grandfather’s husband. He hadn’t felt he needed one.

“I’m glad you came, Theo. We’re both very glad you came. Even if you hadn’t been in this position - it’s good to connect. You’re always welcome here, you know that?”

Theo nodded. 

“And I think your cat has finally found our chicken.”

Theo looked at the sliding door to the back porch, which was glass. Sadie was staring out at the yard and Pam was staring back at her. Or just walking in front of her, oblivious. Theo wasn’t sure how well chickens could see. 

“Maybe they’ll be friends,” David said. “It’ll be one of those animal friendships that rounds out the local news.”

“They never say how long those friendships last. I think it’s until one of them gets hungry,” Theo said, and picked Sadie up. “Sorry, but she’s bigger than any bird you’ve ever caught. Maybe. We do have some big pigeons.”

Sadie mewed angrily at him.

“This relationship just isn’t going to pan out for you,” he said. “Don’t worry. There’s lots of other fish in the sea. And you’ll eat some of them.” 

His mother called that evening with a list of things she couldn’t find in the shop, either because he’d started storing them elsewhere or she just didn’t remember. He hadn’t given much thought to the reopening, only discussing it when she brought it up. He supposed he should be there. Maybe customers were expecting to see him. Maybe Mom wouldn’t be able to figure out the new accounting software. Maybe the suppliers had moved on and found a new place to buy meat. Yet it never occupied much of his mind. Physically, he was probably well enough to go back to work, with the exception of certain tasks that required his right arm. No one had asked him to come back, but he was sure they would have jumped if he offered. The world was waiting for him at home and he was intimidated.

Theo was lounging on the couch, watching reality TV with Grandad and his husband, when he got the call from Matt that he was both waiting and not waiting for.

“Duncan took a plea.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Ten years,” Matt told him. Theo had his phone on speaker. “Up for parole in five.”

“That doesn’t seem like a long time.”

“That’s why it’s called a plea _deal_ ,” Matt explained. “The attempted murder charge was always going to be hard to prove because they have to show intent. And the maximum he could get for that is only fifteen years. But if he pled guilty to it, the DA agreed to let him serve it with the other charges concurrently. It buys him five years and means we don’t have to go through a trial. The only thing left is victim impact statements at sentencing.”

“Would that change his sentence?”

“No. And it would be your family’s chance to say what they want to say to Duncan, on the record. Parole boards can look these records up. You’re not required to do it, but you should think about it.” 

Theo said nothing. His mind was blank.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Matt told him. “As your legal counsel, I think this is a good outcome for you and the family because it means he goes to prison and you avoid a trial. Ten years may not seem like a long time, but when he gets out, he’ll be almost fifty. And if he wants to make parole, he has to express guilt and show remorse. Parole boards can be fooled, but he will have a reason for some introspection. He’s not as young or immature as he was when he went in the first time. It will be different.” 

“Is he still filing charges against Castle? And Daredevil, I guess?”

“No. I think he came to his senses about that.”

“Okay. I need some time to think about this, and then I need a ride back to the city. So a day or two? Whenever’s best for someone to make it up?”

“I know this time has been good for you, but everyone will be very happy to have you home,” Matt said before he ended the call, because he always knew the right thing to say.

Theo still want to cry. He didn’t, but he wanted to. 

“You don’t have to say anything to him,” David said, “but you may want to. You have time to think about it. And you aren’t expected to speak spontaneously and answer questions. It’s a prepared statement.”

“I just don’t know.”

“Whatever you decide, it’ll be the best you can do,” his grandfather told him.

Two days later, his mother and brother came to pick him up. Theo figured he was as ready to go as he’d ever be. They ate an early dinner, Theo somehow got Sadie back into the carrier without his falconry gloves, and they set out. Grandad and David said they would visit soon - after the hearing, it went without saying, but before the wedding. Grandad wanted to come back and see his family. So there was that.

It was too late when they got back for a surprise party, but Matt, Karen, and Pop were at his apartment to greet him anyway, and they had ice cream, and Matt put his game face on and tried the Tofutti-brand ice cream that no one would go near, then oh-so-politely dumped the rest of it in the trash without saying a word.

“You look so good,” Theo’s mother said. “So _healthy_. Though you’re still so skinny.”

“I’m less skinny, I promise.”

“Theo cut his hair,” Foggy told Matt. “Not all off or anything, he just got it cut back a few inches.”

“You look good,” Karen agreed. “Welcome back.”

“How’s the new office?”

“Still got that new office smell,” she said. 

“So, paint.”

“Yeah. I’ll be glad when it’s gone.”

They didn’t stay long - just long enough to eat their own ice cream and share a round to toast his return, then everyone else had work in the morning, and Theo had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life.

Matt stayed, which thankfully went without comment from anybody else, and Theo just wanted to crawl into bed and not think about things but he couldn’t shut his brain off, so he put his head on Matt’s chest and Sadie didn’t come between them (yet) because she was busy losing her shit over a combination of being home and the mouse toy someone bought her hanging from the bathroom door frame. Cats really didn’t handle change well, so they had that in common.

“What do you think I should do?” he asked Matt, in case Matt couldn’t hear his thoughts, or something. 

“Get some sleep,” Matt said. “Ignore everything until at least the morning.”

“Why are you so sensible?”

“It’s what you pay me for.”

 

Theo swallowed all of his nerves (and had an itty-bitty bit of weed) and went over to the shop before the lunch rush started. His legs didn’t give out from under him, so that was good, and he didn’t faint because he was immediately grabbed and fiercely hugged by his father, and paraded around the place. Deon was working the back and happy to see him. Of the customers in line, two out of three recognized him and one knew all of the news and asked him about his health and a bunch of questions about the robbery that Theo stepped around answering. Only when they were gone, and Theo had a quiet moment to himself, did he stare at the newly-cleaned floor at the exact spot where he must have laid, drowning in his own blood. 

“Theo,” his mother said, which snapped him out of it. “Do you want to sit down?”

“I’m okay,” he said, but he went into the back room and sat down anyway. The back room looked cavernous without all of the office supplies from Nelson, Murdock, and Page. The remaining desk was cleared and the business laptop was running on it. 

“You come back to work when you’re ready,” his mother said, “but I need you to show me a few things.”

It took Theo a long time to go over everything when he fell back into the groove, and for a little while it was like nothing had happened, and he was just working a normal day at the shop. Then it was time for his physical therapy appointment, which was more work than he thought it would be because the therapist did a complete assessment and came up with goals of where he thought they could get his arm, and how long that would take, and how soon he needed to use it at work. As long as he didn’t have to raise it high, it was just stiff and weak. He had lost a lot of muscle over the past month. 

Theo didn’t really feel like it, but he took Misha up on her offer of dinner in the village because she kept insisting. She changed into a casual dress in the bathroom. “Ugh, I hate suits.”

“Ties are the worst.”

“They don’t even make sense!” she said. “Should we get drinks? Can you drink?”

“I’m off all the really dangerous drugs, so it’s back to harmless liquor and weed for me.”

“Thank goodness.”

He told her all about life with his gay, hippie grandad and his far more conservative husband, and Misha mostly listened, as she didn’t have that much gossip from their mutual friends. She didn’t ask him about the case until he brought it up and told her about the victim impact statement.

“You should do it,” she said with an uncanny certainty. It almost came out like an order. 

“What am I going to say?”

“Whatever gives you closure,” she explained. “It’s a _victim_ impact statement. It’s about how the crime and your injuries have affected _you_. They exist because people find them cathartic. You say your piece and no one interrupts and then you have an easier time closing that chapter of your life.”

“And what about Duncan?”

“Well, he’s still going to be your cousin. And he’s there for, max, ten years. So you’re probably going to see him again. Everybody’s different, but sometimes these statements do have an impact on the perpetrator, especially since there wasn’t a trial with testimony.”

“Should I forgive him?”

Misha leaned back and crossed her arms. “That, I can’t answer for you. Nobody can answer that for you. Attempted murder is a pretty big thing to get past. Especially in such a short period of time. You might need ten years. Or five, with parole.”

“That’s a really short amount of time.”

“It won’t seem that way to him. From what I’ve heard, prison doesn’t exactly fly by. Our society punishes people with boredom and crushing routine.” 

“I don’t think that just applies to prisoners.”

She took another sip of her mai tai. “Something something opiate of the masses, baby.” 

 

He did feel better after seeing Misha, though it helped that he had a follow-up appointment with the psychiatrist she sent him to. He promised to come to pool night even if he couldn’t play, then went home and played video games while waiting for Matt.

“Misha asked me if you’re being a supportive boyfriend,” he said as Matt climbed in through his window, ever the drama queen. “I told her no, you’re awful.”

“Not sure why you had to lie to her like that, but okay.” Matt removed the layers of black clothing that made up his Daredevil gear. There were less of them because of the summer heat, and because Matt had no sense of self-preservation. This was one of those nights where Theo insisted Matt at least shower off the layer of sweat before getting into bed. 

Theo apologized for outing Matt as Daredevil to his parents as soon as he realized he’d done it - which took a full two weeks. 

“Did they ask about, um - “

“They thanked me from stopping Castle from killing Duncan.”

“Is that what happened?”

“It’s what they guessed happened,” Matt said. “I didn’t correct them.”

Theo wasn’t happy about that. “Did you tell Foggy about this?”

“He was sitting right there,” he replied. “It’s your parents. They don’t need to know everything. Even you didn’t ask for every detail.”

Theo asked for very few, now that he thought about it. And they hadn’t talked about it since that night in the hospital. 

“What’s done is done,” Matt said. When he removed his shirt, Theo realized he had not removed his for anyone but his nieces and nephew, and even then, not all the way. But it wasn’t like Matt could see his scars anyway. “Do I sound different?”

“What do you mean? You sound very different than you did two weeks ago.”

“I mean - can you hear scar tissue?”

“No, but one of your lungs isn’t working at full capacity because it’s smaller. When it tries to expand, it can’t get all of the way there. But you’re not having breathing problems, are you?”

“No. And they said you can survive on one lung anyway.” 

“None of this makes any difference to me,” Matt said. “Your body is weaker on one side than the other, but you’ll build it back up again. But that doesn’t change how you look to me. You’re still beautiful.”

Theo blushed. He actually blushed. “I haven’t, um, had much of a sex drive. Since all of this.”

“I’m leaving you,” Matt announced, “for Luke.”

“Luke isn’t that interested in you.”

“I know.” Matt kissed him right along his jawline, near his ear. “Your body’s going to do things on its own schedule. You have to let it rest and be patient.”

“Advice that I’m sure you have never, ever taken. Even when it came from a medical professional.”

“What can I say? You’re a better listener than me.”

 

Over the next few days, Theo managed to go back to work. His employees were back, and Deon was proving to be rather talented with the carving knives, so Theo could focus on paperwork and packaging orders and other things that didn’t require him to lift anything heavy. Most of the time, he was fine. When he was in the back, he was fine. When he was chatting with his parents, he was fine. But when there was a lull in activity, and the shop was quiet, and he would hear the bells hanging from the door chime - his felt like his heart would stop. Or the blood dripping from the block that he had been so accustomed to would make him nauseous. Or the world would just stop for a few seconds and he would space out, and his mother would get up from her stool and nudge him. 

“Theo!”

“What?” He tried to remember where he was and act like nothing had happened at the same time.

On the third day his mother sat him down in the dining room and said, “If you need more time - “

“Mom.” He didn’t want to be pushed out of his own store. Maybe. 

“I’m just worried about you.”

“I’ll talk to my therapist,” he said. He had to go back anyway - he needed Ativan to sleep. Matt didn’t ask him about his nightmares, which was very nice of him, because he really didn’t want to talk about waking up in a morgue, or what he presumed the inside of a morgue looked like from TV. And he had the sentencing hearing to think about. 

Theo asked Matt if he thought he should do it. “Seeing as how you are the expert in avoiding talking about feelings.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“But you think I should.”

Matt scratched his forehead. “This may sound weird, but I think I know someone you can talk to. But it does involve going into a church.”

“I’m not a vampire. Is it a priest?”

“Would I send you to a priest?”

 

Matt called ahead to find out when Maggie would be available. She had a busy schedule of canonical hours and taking care of children. When Theo went over it was evening, and she was still in her nun habit, but the headdress (was it called a headdress? Could he ask?) was removed. He didn’t know if she was breaking some rule by doing that, but it made her seem more like a normal mom when she offered him tea in the little kitchen she had to herself at this hour. Her hair was reddish-brown, without grey, so she either dyed it or she was young. That made sense. She probably had Matt pretty young. 

She probably abandoned Matt pretty young. Theo tried not to think about that. He didn’t know how to think about that.

“Thank you for coming to the hospital,” he said. “Even if I might have freaked out a little when I couldn’t recognize you.”

“I’m sure the clothing doesn’t help,” she said. “A black, shadowy figure haunting rooms at night? I wouldn’t have come if Matthew hadn’t asked me to. But he was desperate to make sure you weren’t left alone, even though the nurses were in and out every fifteen minutes.”

“He’s been really good to me,” Theo said. “I probably shouldn’t say I don’t deserve all this attention.”

“You definitely shouldn’t,” Maggie said. “It wouldn’t be true.”

Theo looked down at the table.

“I know you have a history with the church,” she said.

“It’s more like a non-history. What did Matt tell you?”

“Nothing. But not many people will go out of their way to refuse last rites. But that’s not what you’re here to talk about.”

It wasn’t, but he said, “Me and G-d, we’re not on speaking terms. I’m going to Hell, right? For being gay? I’m an abomination. So I don’t feel like there’s much for us to talk about.”

“Times have changed. There are churches here that have compassionate answers and open arms. But that doesn’t mean you have to try them out.” She sipped her tea. “Most of the priests are gay, anyway.”

Theo would have spit out his own tea, but he wasn’t that shocked. He was shocked that she would admit it. “Was Matt’s priest gay? Lantom?”

“You know that’s something I would never tell you, even if I knew. And it was irrelevant. He was a priest. A good priest. And a kind man, even if he made mistakes.”

“The priest I grew up with - he wasn’t so kind. He told me I was a sinner, and I didn’t even know what it was to be gay. I was a little kid who just knew he kind of liked boys when he was supposed to like girls. So he laid the hammer down.”

“Matthew will attest that priests may try to stand in for G-d in the confessional, but they’re only human. Sometimes they deserve the authority the community gives them and sometimes they don’t.” She stopped pacing and sat down across from him. “I won’t try to whitewash scripture for you or try to win you over. And I won’t apologize for the Church, either. It’s like this building - it’s old. It creaks. It needs repainting. We have to work to keep it up. But enough.” As Matt indicated, she was a very good reader of other people’s emotions. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Will you tell anyone what I say here?”

“This isn’t the sacrament of confession, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep things to myself. Unless you’ve committed a crime.”

“You haven’t turned Matt in.”

Maggie gave the world’s smallest smirk and said, “Maybe even if you’ve committed a crime, as long as your heart was in the right place. But I don’t think you have.”

Theo supposed he should get to the point. He was taking up her time. “Am I supposed to forgive my cousin for shooting me?”

“Are you asking me about Catholic doctrine - ‘For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you; but if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.’ Gospel of Matthew, appropriately. Maybe why he comes to Church so often.”

“What if I don’t care about being forgiven by G-d? What if I don’t think He’s really in the picture here? I - made some mistakes in my life, but everyone tells me, what happened to me wasn’t my fault. Duncan’s decision to shoot me was not because I wronged him in some way, even though I wouldn’t hire him. Trying to kill me does seem like an overaction.” There was a phantom pain in his side, like his body was calling out to him. “But - in his confession, the one that doesn’t count in court, he said he did hesitate, and that’s why he didn’t finish me off. He had some understanding of what he’d done. If Jessica hadn’t shown up, who knows what would have happened - he could have shot me, or just let me bleed out. But when he did have the opportunity to do it, he didn’t. He didn’t want to. He felt bad. He knew he had made a mistake.” He added, “He hasn’t said anything to that effect to his lawyer or the cops as far as I know. He didn’t have to confess as part of the plea deal. He just pled guilty to the charges in front of a judge.”

Maggie paused before speaking again. “If he was here now, what would you say to him?”

“I - I don’t know.” That was presuming he didn’t flee. “I just want this to not have happened. I wanted him to do well. Or at least not do something that would send him back to prison. It was hard for him, missing most of his adult life, adjusting to all of the changes that happened while he was gone, but we were all rooting for him. We said so. We said it to his face. And we meant it.” 

“And he didn’t live up to expectations.”

“Yeah, that’s putting it mildly.” 

Maggie nodded. “If he were to emerge from prison reformed, and repentant, would you want him back in your life?”

There was no hesitation with his answer. “He’s family. You have to love your family. Even if you don’t like them, you have to love them.”

Maggie had piercing eyes. “Do you love him now?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s harder because it’s behind all of the other feelings, but - he’s still my cousin. He’s not going to stop being my cousin.” 

“Do you want him to go to jail?”

Theo squirmed. “I’m, uh, relieved. Because I’m scared of him. Like, okay, he had a moment where he hesitated. But I still got shot. I almost died. That’s scary. I keep reliving it - not really the shooting, because I don’t remember it so well, but everything around it. Everything I can remember. Sometimes at work I walk into the front and I see the counter and I just ... I’m back in that moment. I’m on the floor and it hurts so much I can’t see. My parents have noticed. They told me I can take more time off, but I don’t know if avoiding it is going to make it better.” He added, “I have a friend, she’s a social worker, and she has some training in therapy because it comes with the territory, and she said I might have PTSD. I asked my psychiatrist, and he said I was exhibiting some symptoms but it was too early to make the call.”

“Is the diagnosis scary? Does it make you feel broken?”

“It makes me feel like this will keep going on because it’s a problem for me now, and I don’t want it to go on. Other people have been shot and they’ve gotten over it. Matt. Even my brother, right in the shoulder, like me. It wasn’t life-threatening, but that was because Matt pushed him most of the way out of the path of the bullet, before it hit something more vital. And he’s proud of his scars. He says it makes him feel like a badass. I just see them in the mirror, and I don’t want them there.”

Wow, she was really good at this. Theo was explaining things he hadn’t explained to himself in his own mind. 

“You could say all of this in your impact statement,” she offered. “You are supposed to say how the crime impacted you. Some people do get very personal, when they want to make it clear to the perpetrator how much they suffered. When they want him or her to feel guilt and be shamed in court.”

“I don’t want to do that,” he said. 

“Why not?”

This was an easy question for him. “I don’t want to hurt him. He’s been hurt enough. Matt beat the shit out of him. His sister-in-law has basically rejected him, said she can’t trust him around her kids. He’s spent the majority of his life in prison because of one mistake he made as a teenager, and now he’s going back. That’s enough, isn’t it? I don’t want to kick him when he’s down. But - I can’t forgive him. Yet. I want to, but I don’t have it in me. And I feel bad about that.”

“Don’t feel bad about that,” she told him, and this sounded very firmly like a real order. “You’re not a saint. You’re a person who’s suffering, and he’s the cause. You have the desire to forgive him, so I think you’re already ahead of most people in your position. It will just take as long as it takes. Maybe your whole life. And that’s fine. It’s something to work towards. Most people want the people who harmed them to suffer, Theo. Victim impact statements are used to air valid grievances. Some people wish the perpetrator dead for good reason. Some people lament that New York doesn’t have the death penalty. They list all of the terrible things they want to happen to him - or her - in prison. And that’s acceptable. This is their chance to do that. But it doesn’t sound like that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I could never do that.”

Maggie looked at him - really looked at him, like she was summing him up in her head. “You have a good heart. I can see why Matt loves you. And he didn’t use the word, but he does. He loves many people in different ways but he can’t express it. For you, it’s definitely because of what kind of person you are.”

“Um, thank you?”

“If you want my advice, you should tell the court - and by that I mean Duncan, and the family that’s listening - what happened to you, what you’re going through, and what you want for the future. Not what could have happened but what could happen, five or ten years from now, when he’s a free man again, and he has another chance.”

“Hopefully not to shoot me.”

“If you can joke about it, you’re further along than you think,” she said, grinning a little. “This is just my advice. You can take it or leave it. Either way, I won’t be offended.”

“Thank you - um, Sister.” 

“You may not feel like the Church is here for you,” Maggie said, “but maybe in some small way, I can be.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so short. That's just the way it worked out with pacing. The next chapter is quite long.

Even after Theo made his decision and started drafting his statement, the date hung over him. His nightmares did not go away. The shop really only worked because he could do the work in his sleep and because his parents were working some limited hours. He had worried about them encroaching on his space when they returned for the summer, but now he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have them not there. 

His mother was not oblivious to all of this. “I know you don’t want to be here.”

“It’ll be better after the hearing.” 

“This isn’t what we wanted for you,” she said, well out of his father’s range. “We wanted you to follow your dreams. We were just happy when they turned out to be working here. But not everything has to stay the same.”

“Yeah, and you wanted Foggy to take over the business. Look how that turned out.”

“We’re very proud of Foggy,” she insisted, “and we’re very proud of you. But we want you to be  _ happy. _ ”

He looked at his hands. “Mom, I’m not sure what’s going to make me happy.”

“Maybe you need some time to figure it out. Away from all this,” she said. “Don’t you have that rich friend?”

  
  


Theo thought about what Matt would tell him to do, since Matt was out doing whatever nonsense would almost get him killed that night with Jessica Jones, and he realized Matt would tell him to tell Foggy, so he did that instead.

“Hell yeah, you should go to India,” Foggy said over drinks at Josie’s. Theo only agreed to drink there because it was on the firm’s tab. Now that Foggy was in his own office, he made an effort to have a standing offer with Theo after work. “Isn’t everyone vegetarian there? It’ll be great for you. You love Indian food. Just don’t become a hare krishna or anything. Or whatever Danny’s doing - don’t do that.”

“I don’t think I can become an Iron Fist. I don’t like punching people and I don’t know any dragons.”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “So Danny paid the whole hospital bill? Really?”

“I mean, beyond what insurance wouldn’t cover. I don’t know what that is. Ward won’t show me the real bill.”

“Fuck, I’m probably going to have to make Danny a groomsman.” 

“I think he’ll be honored just to be invited. He doesn’t get invited to enough things.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like Danny,” Foggy added. “I’m just not really close with him. He’s Jeri’s client. And whatever Matt allegedly does with him, I’m better off not knowing anything about that. But we should at least invite him to the bachelor party.”

“Shrooms with Danny Rand. This could either go really well or really badly.”

“Am I going to have to say no drugs?”

“If you want a lame batchelor party, sure. It can be lame as hell. You are kind of a pussy.”

“Come back from India in a better mood,” Foggy told him. “And I’m not taking care of Sadie, so make some alternate plans.”

  
  


The day before the sentencing hearing was a pool night. Matt offered to go, but Theo knew he had work to catch up on, especially since he was at Theo’s most nights, away from his equipment to help him prepare for court. And Theo didn’t want a babysitter. 

He played pool about as well as he did before since it didn’t require a lot of the flexing he couldn’t do. So his arm wasn’t completely bum.

“Holy shit, we missed you,” Shawn said, because Shawn never minced words. “I offered to sleep around until we found another player, but  _ for some reason _ that got vetoed.”

“For the record, Shawn has not slept with everyone in this room and everyone we have ever invited to hang out with,” Trevor felt compelled to add. 

“It’s a good introduction to meeting new people,” Shawn replied.

“It’s an  _ okay  _ introduction to meeting new people,” Trevor corrected his longtime boyfriend. “There are better ways. But the point is, we don’t have to, because you’re back. Which we’re happy about.”

“Even if you ditched us to hang out with your big gay grandpa,” Shawn muttered into his beer.

“He’s not that big,” Theo said.

“I saw pictures of their house and it’s adorable,” Misha announced proudly. “That’s how I want to retire. To a colorful house with homemade art in the yard. That is somehow also in this city because I am never ever leaving.”

“You could probably get a place on Staten Island,” Theo said. “People can still afford houses with yards because no one wants to live there.”

They wanted to hear all of Grandad’s stories about old New York, and Theo shared the ones he was allowed to share. They asked him how he was doing back at work, and he lied and said he was fine, and they all either believed him or were polite enough to not say anything about it.

Then he told them about the hearing when he had a few drinks in him. Damn, his tolerance was down since he took a break because of almost being dead and shit. 

“Is your whole family going to be there? Okay, this is going to sound crass, even for me - but are there sides?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Theo said. “I haven’t spoken to my aunt and uncle - Duncan’s parents, I mean - since they visited me in the hospital. Which it turns out they were only at because Duncan was there because Daredevil and the Punisher put him there. Which is  _ crazy _ .”

“Have any true crime podcasters contacted you yet?” Shawn asked. “Because it is a story.”

“Thankfully, no. But I’m way behind on my emails.”

“We’re all proud of you,” Misha said. “Just being in the same room as him, when you don’t have to be - that takes guts, Nelson.”

“Yeah, it’s my middle name.”

  
  


Theo woke up early because he was nervous and because he needed to shower and wash his hair and put on a suit. It looked weird and it felt weird and this whole day was just going to be weird and he just wanted to get through with it. He went over to his parents’ apartment and had coffee while they got ready. 

“Do you think Jo will be there?” he asked his mother.

“I assume she’d be home with the kids. She definitely wouldn’t bring them. But she might go to support Andy. They could always hire a sitter.” She added, “Maybe we should have called.”

“Foggy said it’s not our responsibility,” his father said. “What good is his expensive law degree if we’re not going to let him use it?”

“Have you talked to Uncle Timmy or Aunt Jeanie?”

“Since this happened?” His father took his own coffee from the pot. “We texted to say Foggy advised us not to talk to them, but not because we didn’t love them. Just until it was over.”

“ _ I _ texted them,” his mother corrected. “They had the same response. Did you talk to Andy?”

“Unofficially? Yeah. But that was before the plea.”

“I’m sure they have their hands full today,” she said. “Don’t worry about them.” The  _ worry about yourself _ was implied.

Matt, Foggy, and Karen met them at the bottom of the stairs. They weren’t there to provide legal counsel so much as moral support. Some other family members - on Mom’s side - had offered to come, but they turned them down. 

“I probably shouldn’t ask this right now,” Theo said to Karen when he fell behind with her on the way to the subway, “but how’s um, you know?”

“Fine. A little bored, but he would never admit to it. He’s reading a lot, which is basically what he does at home.” 

“I haven’t thanked him.” He wasn’t really sure he wanted to.

“He doesn’t need thanks.”

“Is he coming back?”

“Probably in a week or so. And he wants an invitation to the wedding, if we can manage that somehow. Probably when his beard grows back.” 

“I guess he’s out of a job. It’ll probably look too suspicious if I hire him.”

“He’s resourceful,” Karen said. 

Everyone was too nervous to talk much in the subway, up the steps to the court - even in the waiting room. They sat in silence until they were called, and they all shuffled in.

Duncan was there. He was in a cheap suit, whatever they could manage to get him for the day, sitting between his lawyer and the guard. His parents and Andy were in the row behind him. He looked awful - pale, withdrawn, and in a wheelchair because his feet were still healing. He only looked up briefly, at Theo, and Theo couldn’t decide what emotions he was seeing - a mix, maybe - but neither could lock eyes for very long. Thankfully, the judge entered, and the victim impact statements began.

Theo’s parents spoke as a couple - with his father reading the actual statement, which his mother had written. They talked about almost losing Theo, and waiting for the first plane out in the morning from Florida, knowing very well they might not make it there in time. Of trying to help Foggy make medical decisions over the phone. This was the first time Theo heard the extent of how much life support had been considered. He looked at Foggy, but Foggy’s forlorn expression, lost in memory as he stared at his feet, confirmed that it was true. Theo had no living will because he was young and healthy and they expected him to remain that way. They hadn’t known what to do. They just guessed and hoped for the best. 

Foggy had chosen not to give a statement, deciding that his parents could say everything he wanted to say, and Matt and Karen were not victims. So then it was Theo’s turn at the table. Unlike in movies, the furniture was old and there was a mike on the table. It was a sad, dismal room. 

Theo briefly went into his relationship with Duncan up to the robbery. He admitted he felt guilty for not doing more, but said he didn’t know what else he could have done. He didn’t think the family shop was anything special when it came right down to it - not something to die for, and certainly not something to kill for. 

“I don’t have much of a recollection of the events of that night, except that I thought I was drowning because blood was filling up my lungs,” he said. He was facing the judge, and so was Duncan at his table, and that made it a little easier. “But every time I hear the bell from the door when someone comes into the shop, my heart stops. I can’t stand to be alone there after dark. I can’t stay to lock up - I have to leave with someone. And sometimes I come into the front and my whole brain just shuts down for a few seconds. My psychiatrist says this is called dissociation. I become temporarily detached from the present reality and stuck in another one my mind has constructed where I’m back in that moment. I stare at the ground and I can almost see my body lying there, even though I couldn’t have a memory of seeing my own body. Sometimes I can tell myself that it’s not real and it’s not happening and sometimes I think it really is and I have phantom pain in my side. When I snap out of it, I pretend that it didn’t happen to anyone who asks and go back to work, but I feel drained. I forget what I was talking about before it happened and I have trouble engaging customers for a little bit after it does because I can’t follow what they’re saying. I used to be proud to work in the front, but now I’m happier in the back, where the only people who will see this are coworkers. This is the first time I’ve talked about it honestly in front of my parents. I don’t know when it’s going to get better. I’m continuing with therapy and for the first time in my life, I’m on psychiatric medication.” He swallowed, trying not to think of what his parents were going through. “I’m not able to do all of the physical acts of labor required in butchery, though I’m told by my physical therapist that I will regain most use of my arm, except to lift it very high, which isn’t required for work.”

He turned the page over and looked at Duncan. Duncan looked back. Then Theo returned to his speech. “Duncan Nelson is my cousin and that means I will always love him. I feel this is a requirement of family. I was relieved when he took the plea because it meant he was going to jail and I’m still frightened of him. He was never a mean person to me so the shooting took me by surprise and now I feel like I don’t know what to expect. I was horrified that it wasn’t a longer sentence because in that moment, I just wanted to feel safe. But what I really want is to undo all of this, and go back to being friends, but that can’t be done. He once asked me, because I used to be an engineer, if I could build a time machine and take him back to that night when he was seventeen and stop him from stealing that car, so his whole life could be different. I told him time travel was impossible, but to be honest I’ve thought a lot about what would have happened to him if he had a normal life, or even if he hadn’t been in prison so long and had an easier time adjusting to life outside because he hadn’t missed so much. So I’ve decided that I don’t want him to miss the rest of his life, and all of that time with his family, by being in prison, and I’m glad he only got ten years. I want him to get out when he still has a chance at making something of himself, and see his nieces and nephew grow up, and maybe find someone to love him, too. I don’t know when I’ll be able to forgive him, but the weight of staying mad at him or scared of him is so much sometimes that I don’t think it will be long.” He looked directly at Duncan again. “To Duncan, I say that I hope prison is easier for you this time around, and that you find some peace for yourself, so that we can see each other when you get out. Because our family’s not whole again without you.” He added, hastily, “That’s all I have to say.”

Duncan didn’t say he was sorry, or even mouth the words. He didn’t look like he would be able to talk, even if he was allowed to. He was just so devastated. Theo couldn’t keep looking because he needed to sit down - he felt faint. His job was done. He could cry, silently, as his mother put her arms around him. 

Duncan’s sentence was read out, and he was remanded to the custody of the Department of Corrections. He was allowed to hug his parents and brother one last time before he was led out, handcuffed, and it was over. 

Theo wasn’t ready to get up yet, and in that time, Uncle Timmy came over, followed by his wife, with Andy trailing them. 

“I’m sorry,” Uncle Timmy said. “You know that I am.”

“I know.” 

“We needed to do what was best for him.”

Was he referring to them lying to provide an alibi? Or mortgaging  their house so Duncan could be out free on bail? Theo didn’t know and it didn’t matter. “I know.” 

“We’re gonna go,” Aunt Jeanie said. She looked predictably exhausted. They all did. “But we’ll call.” 

“Okay.” 

Andy wordlessly hugged him, and that side of the family was gone. But not for good. Theo had the distinct feeling of having escaped something that would have been disaster for all of them. 

“I know I say this a lot,” his mother told him as they left. He leaned on her as they walked, “but I’m proud of you. I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud.”

“Okay.” All he wanted to do was go home and sleep, and not see any of their faces again for a little while, while they all recovered from the delayed shock of what happened. They left him at his apartment door, where he climbed into bed curled around Sadie and slept.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one more chapter left! And then there's a very short epilogue, but it's so short I might just post those two chapters together.

“Veg or non-veg?”

These were the only two options the waiter on the train gave him. “Veg,” Theo said, knowing by now not to bother to specify no eggs or dairy, a hapless endeavor. Ten minutes later, a metal dish with segregated compartments was set in front of him. There were stewed vegetables, beans, and white rice, with fresh bread, still hot, on the side. 

One of the first things Theo gave in on in India was bread. His nutritionist warned him that he would need something to offset the spices in just about every dish, especially if he was trying to avoid or at least minimize the amount of dairy he consumed, and bread would soak up some of the oil in his stomach. And damn, it was all so good - the chapatti, the poori, the garlic naan - it put everything in America to shame. And the chickens weren’t raised in cruel industrial farms with no sunlight like they were in America, right? So this was better? Sooner or later, his mouth was burning and he didn’t care, and he was scarfing down bread and even sipping on yogurt. About a mouthful of it did him a lot of good. 

He didn’t have reception on the train ride despite their claims of free WiFi. He could turn his phone into a WiFi hotspot with the SIM card, but just about everyone had the same idea, and cell towers were absolutely overloaded and hotels charged extra for their dedicated satellite dishes. He finished his old audiobook - David Sedaris’s  _ When You Are Engulfed in Flames _ \- and moved on to the English translation of _ The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying _ , which he couldn’t understand much of despite the helpful commentary from the narrator.

Theo was relieved that this was his last train ride for a little while. India was a big country, and even though he mainly stayed in the north, everything was a lot of hours by car or train, and he quickly discovered that it was  _ always _ worth it to shell out for first class, which wasn’t expensive by his own standards, but meant he had basic amenities like air conditioning and no one (probably) trying to steal his bag while he slept. Danny was good to his word about the plane ticket to Delhi, but from there Theo was on his own, which meant hotels that required him to sleep under nets to prevent bites from mosquitos carrying malaria. He even spent a night in the Golden Temple of Amristar, where the Sikhs provided room (it was more like a mat) and food for travelers free of charge. Most places he visited were tourist places, like the Taj Mahal and the city of Jaipur, but in Amritsar, it was off-season and he was pretty sure he was the only white guy there - several people asked him to take pictures with him, and one family that didn’t speak a word of English (and he didn’t even know what language they were speaking, since there were so many) just handed him their baby and expected him to pose with it. The hostel owner explained that they might have never seen a white person before, and just to let them do it. 

Now he was in the state of Bihar, his train bound for the major station in Gaya. He had a heavy guidebook, but most of his information came from free audio guides he found on the internet and loaded onto his phone. He learned about Hindu architecture, and the Mughals and the way they ruled and built their tombs, and what treasure ended up where after Partition, so a throne would be in India but the jewels that belonged on the throne would be in a museum in Pakistan. He saw Gandhi’s sandals and glasses in a museum in Delhi. He learned to circumambulate shrines the correct way (clockwise) and to touch the floor whenever he stepped into a Hindu temple, or remove his shoes when he went in a mosque, which always seemed to have an excessively hot stone floor. And he learned that sometimes when he asked a pedicab driver to take him somewhere and they said they knew where it was, they were lying and half the trip was them stopping to ask for directions. In Delhi he relied on Uber because it required the driver to have a phone with GPS to run the app, but outside the city, it was a free-for-all. 

Absolutely everyone asked him what he did for a living (he said he owned a restaurant, sensing being a butcher might not be a great thing to say) and what his parents did for a living (the same). He said his brother was a lawyer, and this impressed people. They also knew the name “New York” when he said where he was from, or they smiled and pretended they did. One guard at a temple just said, “Iron Man! Iron Man!” to him, and when Theo tried to explain that he didn’t know him, he realized the man didn’t understand English, but wanted to engage him anyway.

Even though he was worlds away from home, thanks to the miracles of technology, he was still in touch with his family. He texted his mother every day, and called her when he was in an internet cafe with good WiFi. He texted Matt, too, through Facebook because calling was just too expensive, and Matt understood. Foggy and his father checked in less frequently, and he always answered them, but the answers weren’t long. He posted pictures to his Facebook page, but he didn’t spend a lot of time on it. They were more proof of life and good health and to show where he was than anything else. He didn’t consider himself much of a photographer. 

The hectic pace of touring and finding room and board didn’t leave much time to do anything else but sleep, and for the most part he slept soundly, without waking up in a cold sweat, but missing Sadie on his head and Matt by his side. Sharing a bunkbed in a cheap hostel while wild dogs howled outside his window all night wasn’t the same. He didn’t smoke and rarely found a place to have a beer, usually a restaurant where it was served with dinner. 

Even though he did his physical therapy exercises, sometimes he would forget about his injuries and try to lift his arm above his head to reach for something and be stumped as to why it wouldn’t go all the way up. 

There were a lot of places along the way that offered meditation classes, yoga classes, and even some questionable forms of healing that were definitely for dumb tourists. He asked other Westerners, and the popular ones were the ten-day silent retreats, but that sounded like a lot to him as a beginner. And there were stories about people going crazy from the silence, and he couldn’t afford to have a breakdown in India, so he kept himself busy instead. 

When the train finally arrived in Gaya, he was tired from the long ride but he got a second wind when he saw Danny waiting for him. The CEO was in full monastic robes, looking like a Buddha with his embroidered vest, maroon skirt, and matching maroon shawl over his left shoulder. It hung loose and constantly needed readjusting. “Theo! You made it!” As if Danny hadn’t been texting him, asking him how he was doing and if he needed anything every step of the way.

Theo did the ‘Namaste’ gesture and Danny returned it, and embraced him, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s so good to see you! I feel so out of touch with everyone in New York. Ward just refuses to come this time.”

Theo looked around the filthy train station, surrounded by garbage and slums, and said, “Yeah, I can see that. So you finished with the initiation?”

“Yes, but there’s so many other teachings. The Karmapa keeps trying to get me to retake full ordination. I think there’s a consensus among some of the lamas that the Iron Fist should, you know, devote himself entirely to the Dharma. But they don’t really understand the position because they’re not from K‘un-Lun. Buddhism developed differently on earth. And also, I tend to be pretty bad about keeping vows. Colleen and Ward would definitely be mad at me if I went full monk after all I’ll put them through.”

“You didn’t hear this from me, but you might be the reason Ward still works at Rand,” Theo said. “He used to hate it.”

“He fought so hard to protect it. From me, especially.”

“There was that thing with his dad I don’t really understand. But also, it was all he had.”

Danny nodded. “Attachments are a cause of suffering.”

“Oh, so you’re not so attached to your stock portfolio now?”

“I don’t manage my stock portfolio. I have a team for that,” Danny said completely unironically. “Come on. I’ll take you to Bodh Gaya. You can see the Bodhi tree. Oh, and you can meet Wong! He doesn’t stay here overnight, but he’s here during the day. He can confirm my stories about K‘un-Lun.”

“I’ve always believed you,” Theo said. That was a mostly honest answer. If Danny just got into a rant, which he tended to do, Theo listened but didn’t bother weighing if it was true or not. That wasn’t a good expenditure of his time. “I have a boyfriend with superpowers. Last summer, a giant purple guy came down from a spaceship and ranted for a while before that second Captain America in the white outfit came out of nowhere and cut his head off. Remember that? It was totally bizarre. And then Cap Two just disappeared and we never figured out what that was about. So yeah, dragons. Spaceships and dragons.”

There was a car waiting for them - nothing fancy, just a regular cab - and it took about an hour to get to Bodh Gaya proper with traffic.

“I know you probably want to set your bags down, but at least see the Bodhi Tree first. The Buddha became Enlightened as he sat under it.” 

“I’ve been reading up on it.”

But Danny was just so excited, so he took him, and yeah, it was a giant tree. There was a fence around it so no one could actually sit under it, but dozens and dozens of people were sitting around it, in prayer or meditation, in all kinds of different color robes and of different ethnicities. Several people in the same robes as Danny were prostrating themselves in front of it over and over and over again, which was probably great exercise because they did it with their whole bodies spread out on the ground in front of them. It was a lot more impressive than kneeling on a cushion in church. There was a giant stone statue of the Buddha, which was also impressive, but Theo had seen a lot of giant statues in the last two weeks. 

“There’s not many rooms in the monastery guesthouse,” Danny said. “The town is packed because of the public teachings. I tried to get you a luxury one but if you’re up for it, you can share with me.”

“I don’t need it to be a luxury room.”

“Luxury means you have your own working bathroom,” Danny explained. “Showers are still communal.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll go with you.”

“And I have the best WiFi.” Danny showed him to his room, which had two beds on opposite sides, and was about the width of Theo’s place in New York, but much less deep. There were two wooden dressers, one of which had a little altar set up on it with a statue and flowers and incense and the other with expensive-looking computer equipment. “You want to lay down, or you want to get dinner?”

“Ate on the train,” Theo explained. Train food was surprisingly good. So far, he hadn’t really had a bad meal. Strange meals, but nothing bad. The bed was hard and there was a Tibetan rug on top of the mattress, but he was used to it by now. “Thank you. For everything.”

“I’m really glad you could make it.” Danny was grinning like an idiot. He swapped out his maroon shawl for a bright yellow one that was made of patches sewn together for reasons Theo couldn’t fathom. “I have to go to prayers. I took a bunch of vows to be more consistent about it and I don’t want to be reborn in hell for ten thousand lifetimes if I can possibly manage it.”

“Oh, Buddhists have Hell?”

“We sure do,” Danny said. “I’ll be back in an hour. There’s snacks in my suitcase. Get some rest!” 

He put on the goofiest hat Theo had ever seen and left. Theo supposed it was disrespectful to find it goofy, but it made it look like Danny had a giant banana on his head. 

Theo immediately texted the group chat for his immediate family (and Matt, Marci, Karen, and Brett) that he had arrived safe in Bodh Gaya and met up with Danny. Then he shut his phone off and plugged it into the wall and tried to get some rest over the sounds of people talking in a myriad of unfamiliar languages. This was the last leg of his journey - and hopefully, the most relaxing one. 

When Danny returned they went to dinner. There were all kinds of pop-up cafes for the influx of tourists, many of them Westerners. There were a lot of places that mostly had pasta dishes that were amazing - or Theo was just enjoying allowing himself to have wheat-based carbs. 

“So what do you think of India?” Danny asked as Theo had his first beer in a while. 

“It’s exhausting. In a good way. And I really like the food. I could see how people could just get lost here and stay for a year.”

“Do you want to?”

Theo shook his head. “Ward was right about the indoor plumbing thing.”

“Ward is a spoiled American.”

“You’re a spoiled American, Mr. I-Own-My-Own-Satellite.”

“My company owns the satellite.” Danny picked his head up. “Wong la!” He waved down a heavyset Asian man in an ordinary T-shirt instead of robes, who joined them. “Wong, this is my friend Theo. Theo, this is Wong. He was born and raised in K‘un-Lun.”

Theo shook hands with Wong. “Did Danny tell you he’s the Iron Fist yet?”

“Ah, yes, the Iron Fist,” Wong said. He was nursing his own beer. “K‘un-Lun’s mightiest bouncer.” Theo broke into laughter, mostly at Danny’s semi-insulted expression. “Because that’s what you do, right?” Wong said to Danny. “You stand in the doorway and keep the undesirables out of heaven.” He looked at Theo. “Every time we get a white Iron Fist, he bails. Just walks off with Shou-Lao’s chi like it’s nothing. We gotta stop letting them in.”

“There’ve been other white Iron Fists?”

“Two Iron Fists ago - though it’s really hard for me to track time - was Orson, and yeah, walked right off the job. Now Danny says the Hand got into K‘un-Lun. I say, it’s an immortal city of heaven. It’s fine. Or it learned a very important lesson about impermanence.” 

“And now you’re a librarian?”

“Of a very important library!” Wong was mock-offended. “Guarding it is a sacred duty!”

“Oh?” Danny asked. “So that’s why you’re guarding it now?”

Wong put his beer down and stared waving his hand in circles, and what definitely had to be a portal surrounded by sparks appeared from nowhere. He stuck his head in - his head disappearing in the process, like some Harry Potter novel thing - and pulled it back out. “It’s fine.” Then he sat back down and finished his drink as the portal closed up on its own, shrinking into nothing.

“Is that how you go home every night?” Danny asked.

“Fuck me, can you teach me to do that?” Theo demanded.

“It requires many years of studying sacred texts of ancient wisdom,” Wong explained, “and you must take an oath to forever guard against the forces of darkness which wish to consume - “

“Lost me at ‘forces of darkness,’” Theo said. “Let me guess - you have to learn to fight people, right? This is another superhero thing?”

“I am part of the reason our dimension was not recently destroyed by the dark forces of Dormammu.”

“Yeah, whatever. None for me,” Theo said. “Thank you for your service.”

“Theo’s getting very good at replicating my favorite dishes from K‘un-Lun,” Danny announced. “But with meat.”

“You know, some people believe not eating meat will shorten your lifespan, but it’s worth it to avoid the negative karma you will accrue because an animal was killed for you. Now people say meat is bad. So no one can decide. My co-worker, who won’t shut up about the fact that he’s a doctor, says eating meat is not great but it’s better than pizza.” He rubbed his large stomach. “I disagree with him. If K‘un-Lun had pizza, I never would have left.”

Theo had about a million other questions, but he didn’t want to harangue this guy who had the air of also being on vacation. He did add him as a Facebook friend though. 

The next day, Theo got up early - not that early, but still early - for the start of his own three-day meditation retreat, where he agreed not to talk to anyone else except the retreat master unless it was absolutely necessary. The “retreat” didn’t require him going anywhere far away - it was an inner retreat. Danny went with him to make sure he found the place.

“I checked him out, and he’s a good teacher,” Danny said. “He’s good at explaining things in English. And if it gets too intense, or boring, you tell him about it, and he’ll say whether you should end the retreat. Some emotions might come up that you don’t want - tell him about them. He might say to stop and he might say to work through them. But people say he’s reliable about the mental health of beginners. And when you come back at night, I won’t say anything to you, so you can stay in retreat. It’s better if you’re serious about it.”

Theo nodded. He was a little apprehensive, but his fears were mostly put aside when he met the teacher, a monk with an Australian accent and a head so clean-shaven that Theo couldn’t tell what the color of his hair would have been. He introduced himself as Tenzin, and Theo wondered what his birth name was. He looked like a Bruce, Theo decided. Or a Jerry.

There were ten people in the class, all of them Westerners except for one Indian woman. They took positions on cushions as he walked them through basic Tibetan meditation techniques, such as focusing on breathing but letting thoughts come and go rather than try to think of nothing. He was incredibly low-pressure.

“His Holiness the Dalai Lama says, the good thing about meditation is that it’s hard to do it wrong, and the bad thing about meditation is that it’s hard to do it right.’” Tenzin was smiling serenely but it seemed to be from a place of joy rather than empty-headedness. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

They descended into silence, punctuated by the occasional cough or throat-clearing, or sounds from outside that drifted in, like those giant horns being blown for some other ceremony. Theo tried to focus on his breath, but got bored, then frustrated, then bored again. He squirmed a lot. His legs weren’t used to sitting cross-legged so long and by the end of the first hour-long session, he was in quite a bit of pain. From the way the others stumbled around to get tea, they were in a similar position. Tenzin knew what he was doing, and after a brief break for milk tea, they did a walking meditation next, circling around and around a stone pillar painted white. 

Tenzin explained the basics of Buddhism - life was suffering, suffering was caused by attachments, there was positive karma and negative karma, and one could end suffering by taking actions that accumulated only positive karma and training their mind. He told the basic life story of the Buddha, which Theo knew by now. It was instructive but not as preachy as he assumed it would be. They were told to meditate on cultivating compassion for every living thing. He gave them drawings of mandalas to meditate on. Only at lunch and dinner were they allowed to ask questions, and only to him. They were supposed to avoid stimulants and intoxicants, but two of them went off for a smoke. 

“The only constant is change,” Tenzin explained in the evening lecture. “Our attachment to things staying the same is a major cause of suffering. Nothing will ever stay the same.” He gave the example of the cushion beneath him, which was wearing down from use. “Once it was cotton on stalks. Then it was woven into fabrics. Now the fabrics are slowly being pulled apart again by my weight. Eventually, it will dissolve. It will rearrange into new matter. It is always matter but the matter does not stay in the same state. Even atoms don’t stay the same. They are forever rotating.”

Theo wasn’t sure he believed all of this, but what Tenzin said didn’t have to do much with belief. Theo followed the rules, and didn’t look at his phone or talk to Danny or anyone else before bed, even though Danny was sitting across from him. 

The second day, about mid-morning, one woman started crying hysterically. She didn’t say anything - she just cried. Some of them - including Theo - opened their eyes and looked to Tenzin for guidance, but he smiled back at them and they continued their retreat, and she eventually stopped crying. She wasn’t the only one with an outburst - someone started laughing at nothing in particular, and it continued for a long time before he settled down. At lunch, Tenzin said this was all normal, and to keep the retreat. Then he told them about dying.

“Imagine your skin rotting away, leaving only a skeleton in your place,” he said. “When I first became a monk, my guru told me, ‘Meditate for a year on this.’ That’s what you do the first year. You meditate on your body whithering away after death. And the description he used was far more intense than that. You might have noticed pictures on the monastery walls of demons consuming eyeballs and human flesh and drinking from bowls of blood. It’s meant to shock you out of complacency. You will die. Imagine someone leaping headfirst down a well. There’s nothing but stone at the bottom. That’s your life. That’s your whole life. The difference is, with the Buddha’s teaching, you’re falling with your eyes open. As he lay dying, he said, ‘Hurry, hurry towards Enlightenment.’ Our lifespans aren’t that long. We don’t have much time, and we might not reincarnate as a human. We might have to work back up to being a human, over many lifetimes. So it is better to try as hard as you can in this one.”

Theo could not imagine his death, but he could imagine what dying felt like. Or, more precisely, he didn’t have to imagine. And then he couldn’t breathe - here, in India, in this calm, safe place, he couldn’t get air into his lungs. 

“Return to your breathing,” Tenzin said. “Do you have medication you need to take?”

Theo pointed to the bag he left with his shoes all the way to the side of the room, and Tenzin retrieved it for him, and brought him a thermos of water to drink from as Theo swallowed two pills. The effect was not instantaneous, and Tenzin said, “Slowly, return to your breathing.” He counted with him, patiently, so Theo could try to regain his rhythm. “Slowly, return to your breathing now. See? You have it. You’re going to be all right.”

The pills made him sleepy. Normally they didn’t put him to sleep outright, but by the end of that particular session, he was dozing in his seat. Every time his head would drop forward, it would wake him up again. 

At dinner, Theo told him about the shooting. “I keep going back to that place. I was drowning. Literally. My lungs were full of blood.”

“Were you scared?”

“I don’t think I had time to be scared. When I woke up in the hospital, and the machine was doing my breathing for me -  _ then _ I was scared. I was scared of having a tube down my throat. And when they took it out, I was afraid they were going to put it back in.”

“You are afraid that something bad that has happened to you will happen again. Perfectly normal,” Tenzin assured him. “Only the arhats - the original disciples of the Buddha - were capable of becoming completely free of fear. The rest of us are tangled in our own webs of fear. We fear we will die and we will cease to exist. But really, if we realize we have no self, we will know we have no reason to fear anything.”

“Yeah, I don’t understand the concept of no-self at all.”

“Neither do I, or I would be Enlightened. And then I would be arriving in the morning on a leopard riding on a rainbow or something,” Tenzin said, referencing the imagery of the murals on the wall, which got very psychedelic. “I’m little more than a novice. I still think I have a self even though academically I can read and discuss the idea of no-self and I know I’m supposed to know about no-self. But I don’t yet. If I did, I might cease to exist. But it wouldn’t bother me, because there would be no self to be bothered.”

“Um, that’s interesting, but not helpful.”

Tenzin didn’t look surprised. “I don’t have a one-page sheet on all of the ways to conquer your fears. If I did, it would be oversimplified and unhelpful. With meditation, you have to be patient.”

“I thought I was falling down a well.”

“If you’re panicked about it, you will not become Enlightened. You can only try to cultivate the state of mind where you do not panic, and fall serenely.” He added, perhaps in response to Theo’s expression. “This is a lot. These are high-level concepts. Don’t worry about understanding them. Just return to your breathing.”

“What made you become a monk?”

“A boring Anglican upbringing and a bad divorce,” Tenzin said with an embarrassed giggle. “You’ll find that’s true with a lot of Western monks. Especially the older ones.”

“I’m Catholic. But not, um, practicing.”

“You can meditate on the Virgin Mary, if it helps.”

“It won’t.”

“The don’t worry about it. Return to your breathing.” It seemed to be this guy’s mantra.

At the end of the evening session, one man got up and started cursing furiously at Tenzin, telling him it was all nonsense and he was a hypocrite and a simpleton, only he used more colorful language. Then he stormed out. Tenzin didn’t look bothered or surprised. 

“Stay in retreat,” he told the rest of them. “You’re all doing well. See you tomorrow.”

That night, it seemed like every nightmare Theo could have had descended on him. He died, he woke up in a morgue, his parents died, Foggy died, Matt died, he drowned and died again - just everything so that he woke up soaked in sweat and clawing for breath and fell right over when he forgot how narrow his bed was. This woke Danny, who helped him sit up.

“If you need something, you can tell me,” he said, but he brought Theo everything he would need anyway - water, his pills, a change of shirt, and his phone. He swapped out his shirt for a new one but said nothing. Danny draped one of his heavier wool robes over Theo’s shoulders and took a seat next to him on a cushion on the floor, and they sat there in near darkness, Theo trying to will his hands to stop shaking and the pain in his shoulder to go away. It wasn’t real. The scar tissue was there, but the wound wasn’t fresh. He wasn’t back on the floor of the shop. He was going to be okay.

It took him a very long time, but slowly, he returned to his breathing. 

  
  


The last day was more of the same - long silences punctuated by Tenzin’s teachings and occasional emotional outbursts that everyone tried to ignore. Tenzin really put his back into trying to explain the concept of no-self and attachments, but man, he was not getting anywhere. At least with Theo. 

They broke retreat over dinner. Monks were supposed to only eat two meals a day, both before noon, Tenzin explained, but a third was permitted if you needed energy for teaching or traveling or you got sick. And he drank milk tea pretty much nonstop. 

“This is just a beginning,” he told them. “But if you say you’re going to meditate, even for five minutes, every day, you should do it. A lot of people say they’re going to do something and then don’t do it. Choose one or the other. Meditation is a lifelong practice. It doesn’t get easier, but it doesn’t get harder.”

Theo really, really wanted to ask what Tenzin’s name had been before he was a monk, but he didn’t. He thanked him and took his contact information, then friended him on Facebook, where a relative called him Richard. Damn. He was way off.

The cafe seemed impossibly loud that night, even though it was nothing by New York standards. Over drinks, Theo showed Danny and Wong a picture he’d received from Luke of Sadie with her head poking out of one of Luke’s hoodies. “Man, I hope it had all of those holes when she found it.”

Danny was impressed. “You got Luke to catsit for you?”

“She can’t scratch him,” Theo explained. “And he’s got, like, people now. To change her litter. He’s got giant guys in suits who are definitely not goons, and he’ll tell you they’re not. But I think they might be.”

“I saw a picture of him in one of his new suits,” Danny said. “He’s got a beard. It makes him look older. More professional. Sometimes guys in the corporate world grow beards when they’re young to look older, then shave them when they get old to look younger.” Danny was not completely clean-shaven, but he kept his hair very closely-cropped like most of the other monks, and he always had a bit of a goatee coming in, like no one taught him how to shave right. “Colleen says he’s  _ definitely _ a mob boss now, but I shouldn’t say it to his face.”

“Whatever, as long as he doesn’t get arrested while I’m away and my cat ends up in an evidence locker. Because I will be super pissed at him for that.” 

“You’re still going to go home? You’re not going to stay and become another monk who drops out after five years?” Wong asked. “I hear the average for Westerners is about five. More if they’re older. The teenagers don’t have the patience for it. Everything seems cool to them until you have to learn Sanskrit.”

“And they don’t even take you seriously even if you read Sanskrit just fine,” Danny lamented. “Nobody takes my calls unless they need me to hit something. Or melt a ritual object designed to represent evil in my hand.”

Theo laughed, and Wong rolled his eyes.

  
  


They stayed for the rest of the week so that Danny could finish attending the teachings and do whatever rituals were asked of him but mostly seemed to involve playing horns very loudly. Theo spent a lot of time at the better of the cafes, trying to learn to use Indian spices from a chef who only spoke Magahi and worked under conditions that would horrify any health inspector and often involved a propane stove in a backyard. And the secret to everything was butter. 

Danny was so excited when he got a special delivery of a cardboard tube to the monastery. “Finally!” He pulled out and unrolled a scroll in a silk frame, with a handmade painting of a Buddha with blue skin. “This is for you. It was commissioned to speed up your healing. It’s Medicine Buddha.”

“Thank you. Uh, what do I do with it?”

“Hang it up somewhere? You don’t have to actually do anything. The  _ making _ of it was the thing that worked. Though we could do a ceremony and ask the Buddha to come to have a special presence in the scroll. But then you would really have to treat it with respect.”

“No thank you.” Theo was discovering just how Catholic he still was, despite the growing pile of books about Buddhism on his bed stand. “I really appreciate this, Danny. And all of the other things you’ve done for me.”

“I probably did that artist a favor with a real commission. It’s so hard for real artists who use the proper stone colors and gold paint to find work. Everyone in the shops is fake.” 

At the end of the set of teachings there was a giant ceremony with a lot of monks in a lot of silk outfits and hats and masks and rainbow trimmings and they couldn’t have shoved any more color in there if they tried, and everyone got a red string to tie around their arm for attending. The next day, Danny changed back into his regular hippie clothes and they boarded a plane to Delhi, where Danny had a jet waiting for him, and it even had his fucking name on it, because of course it did.

“You could just stay here,” Theo told him on the hot tarmac. “You seem so happy.”

“Some of the time. But monastic society has its problems. There’s bureaucracy and scandals and people acting in their best political interests. At times it doesn’t seem that different from lay society. And I’m a bad monk. I like booze, and weed, and sex. I love Colleen and she loves me back, even if I’m starting to suspect she might love Claire more. Should I do something about that?”

Theo wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole. “Poly relationships are hard to navigate. That’s why I’ve never been in one for very long.”

“I fought so hard for my position at Rand because it’s my family, but it’s not even a real thing. A corporation isn’t a person or even a building. It doesn’t exist. It doesn’t contain matter. But everyone serves it. I just knew, growing up, that it meant everything to my mom and dad, and they’re gone, so it’s all that’s left of them. So I went to hold on to it. I’m not supposed to form attachments but it’s kind of impossible not to, you know? You had something, and then you lost it, so you want it back. And when you get it, you’ll do anything to keep it.”

“I used to feel that way about the butcher shop,” Theo said. “Did Ward tell you about the offer to work at Rand? I assume that was legit.”

“It was very legit. We would love to have you. You know the CEO and the CFO so I don’t think HR’s going to be much of a hurdle.”

“You don’t even know if I can do any actual engineering.”

“I can’t do any actual business stuff,” Danny pointed out, “and I own the company.” 

“At least you’ll admit it,” Theo said. “I’ll think about it. It would require some big decisions about the shop, and I’ve been avoiding those. I guess the shop is another attachment?”

“If you realize the transitory nature of everything you will decrease the suffering caused by your attachments,” Danny told him. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have them. You have to have things in your life. Clothes, a home, people. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” 

“What you say is still very confusing to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny admitted, “I’m really more about punching stuff.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note: Danny refers to Wong as "Wong la" in the previous chapter not because Wong's last name is la, but because "la" is a Tibetan honorific used to address an important teacher, scholar, or friend. I usually add the "la" at the end of the name of Tibetans I know when I'm addressing them.

1992

Ed picked the ringing phone up and walked into the kitchen to resume washing the dishes with it. The new cordless system was great when he could remember to properly put it back in the set so that the battery didn’t die, which according to his wife was never. “Hello?”

It was his brother. “Did you tell Theo you would take him to the Stark Expo?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Why is that your problem exactly?”

“Because he told Andy, and now Andy wants to go. And if Andy gets to go, Duncan’s going to want to go. Do you have any idea how expensive these tickets are?”

“Yeah, trust me, I’m extremely aware,” Ed said. “Look, Theo’s been begging for weeks. He wore us down with that whole ‘it’ll be my Christmas and birthday present for five years’ plea. So Anna and I discussed it and we feel it would be good to encourage his scientific interests or whatever bullshit we cooked up to justify it to ourselves. And he printed a fifteen-percent off coupon from the computer.”

“Your computer has coupons?”

“It’s that bulletin board thing he goes on. The thing that we have to dial into, like a phone. I forget what it’s called. But I called the Javitz Center, and they said they’ll honor them.” He usually didn’t do the dishes in the apartment because he did them at work, but Foggy came home from preschool with a cold and gave it right to Anna. “I’m sure you can talk at least Duncan out of it. But if you want to buy a ticket for Andy, I’ll take the two of them so we don’t have to buy another adult ticket. The tickets for kids under 12 aren’t so bad. And I heard they get a lot of free stuff there.”

“I’ll talk to Jeanie,” Tim said, which was usually how he ended arguments. “Maybe it’ll blow over.”

“You don’t want your kid to be inspired to become a titan of science and technology or some bullshit?” Ed chuckled. “Look, he’s our godson, and Theo would want him to go with him, so - maybe we can contribute a little. Let me talk to Anna.”

“Yeah, let’s put it on our wives.”

“That is the best way. Keeps me out of trouble. Talk to you later, Tim.” He went to return the phone to the charger and saw Anna there in her nightgown. “How much did you hear?”

“We cannot afford to buy Andy a ticket.”

“I said contribute.  _ Contribute _ . And Theo’ll have a better time anyway.”

“He will.” She sighed. “Who knew raising two kids in Hell’s Kitchen would be so expensive?”

“We’ll make it work. We always do.” He put his arm around her. “And we can put Foggy to work in the shop. He says he’s ready to go.”

“He thinks he owns it. It’s different. Owners just boss everyone around.”

“Let him keep thinking that. He’s still a kid. It’s too early to crush his dreams.” He added, “Unless they’re as expensive as Theo’s.”

  
  


Present Day

It turned out, Danny was terrified of planes. He drank heavily and slept through a lot of the ride. He didn’t say why, but Theo remembered something about a plane crash, and how many of those did you need in your life before you were thoroughly spooked? Whatever, Theo could manage by himself on a private jet with free booze and WiFi. 

Damn, if he was willing to go out with Ward  _ or _ Danny, he could probably keep doing all of this. It turned out not having to travel cattle car internationally could make someone into a very mercenary person. 

At the private airfield in New Jersey, they didn’t have to go through baggage claim or  _ anything _ . Theo decided he simultaneously loved and hated Danny, who was too hungover to drive. Instead of a driver, Ward was there to greet them.

“Oh good, you brought him back,” Ward said to Theo. “You know, I’m not sure whether to chain him to his desk or encourage him to stay meditating in a cave somewhere.”

“Funny, we had the same conversation,” Theo said. He carried his own backpack and the tube containing the thangka scroll. “What brings you out to Jersey?”

“Someone has to make sure Danny gets to where he needs to go.”

“I thought you pay people for that.”

“Maybe I just wanted to get some sunshine,” Ward said. “You look good.”

“Thanks.”

“Didn’t become a monk either?”

“Too Catholic. And I really like beer.”

“Danny drinks it anyway,” Ward said, and they got in his ridiculous black luxury SUV and he dropped Theo off at his apartment, where his parents were waiting. 

His mother just about throttled him. “You look so good!” She pointed to the sleeping Danny in the backseat. “Is that Mr. Rand?”

“That’s Danny, yeah. Stick around and you’ll see a lot of him, because I think I’m gonna be cooking for him for just about ever. He bought so many spices they have their own suitcase.” 

“Your mother was worried that you wouldn’t come home,” his father said. “Wind up following your bliss in some commune or whatever they have there. Happens to a lot of kids.”

“I’m not a kid,” Theo said. “I’m a responsible small business owner.”

They hadn’t so much as picked his bags up off the sidewalk when another black sedan pulled up and a big guy in a suit got out. “Courtesy of Mr. Cage.” He took Sadie’s carrier and a duffle bag of cat supplies out of the backseat and set them on the street. 

“Thank - “

“Have a nice day,” Sugar said, because that was what Theo was pretty sure his name was, and he sped away.

“Wow, looks like Luke really liked catsitting,” he told his parents. He let his father take his bag so he could handle the carrier as they went up to the apartment. Sadie scurried out of her carrier and disappeared under the bed, wearing a yellow hoodie around her neck like a massive cloak. “I guess that’s hers now.”

They expected him to just about pass out from his travels, but he didn’t. He’d napped in the car, and he was hungry, so he made himself a shake while they sat at his tiny table and he told them about India. Only when they went to leave did they share any news with him.

“Your grandfather is coming to New York,” Mom explained. “It’s not going to be a big thing. He doesn’t want to deal with the whole extended family yet. So it’s going to be us in the shop and Tim and Jeanie and Andy’s whole clan. He wants to see his great-grandchildren and they really want to see you so they’ll take any excuse they can get. You don’t have to cook.”

“I want to cook,” he said. “So you’re talking to -”

“It’s been tense,” she admitted. “But you know Jeanie and I, we’ve never had much patience for not talking to each other. And texting is just impersonal enough that it makes everything a little easier. We haven’t actually seen them yet, but we will when he comes down. And they want to see how you’re doing, so I think that’s part of not staying away.” She sighed. “It’s still very hard for them. It’s like they’ve lost Duncan all over again.”

“It’s five years.”

“When you’re our age, that seems like a long time,” she admitted. “You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, Mom. They’re still family. I still love them.”

His father interrupted their moment to lift up the scroll. “What the hell is this thing?”

  
  


After work, Matt and Foggy came by to welcome him home and took him out for dinner.

“I know you ate bread on that trip,” Foggy said to him.

“They don’t torture their chickens, Foggy.” Which was a lie. He saw plenty of chickens in cages. They just weren’t in cages in the dark. “Watch  _ Food, Inc. _ if you don’t believe me.”

“No! I have a strict policy against watching any documentary that turns people into vegans.”

Matt happily listened to Theo and Foggy catch up until Foggy left, and Theo was surprised both by the wideness and softness of his own bed and how he’d forgotten that he liked having someone else in it, even if that particular person was not as tired as he was.

“Danny Rand can’t handle planes.”

“I’ve never been on one,” Matt said. “I’ve heard they’re pretty terrible. And what is with this scroll?” He pointed to the thangka that was currently hanging from a hook by the fridge meant for a calendar. “It smells like pigments they’re not supposed to use anymore.”

“Is that bad?”

“Just don’t eat it. What is it of?”

“Medicine Buddha. Who is blue. I don’t know why. I didn’t get the impression that blue was the color of medicine or anything. And don’t worry - I’m not going to worship it.”

“I think it would be very hypocritical for me to take any kind of position on heresy.” 

“I got you a little stone elephant for your desk or whatever,” Theo said, “but I’m too tired to get it out of my bag right now. Maybe it’s because my body thinks it’s tomorrow morning.”

“I can wait.”

Theo leaned on Matt and said, “Also I really missed you and I want to fuck you so hard, but not right now, because if I don’t get to sleep my brain might melt.”

Matt kissed him. “I can wait for that, too.”

  
  


“Hey, boss.” Deon greeted Theo as he stumbled into work. He took a day off for jetlag, but he figured he could at least put in a few hours before he keeled over again. It was the time change, the internet told him. And it helped that he didn’t have to be there to open up.

“Hey Deon,” Theo said, and looked to see if his parents were around. Neither was visible. “So how’s working for my folks?”

“Not too bad. Your dad is showing me a bunch of things about carving.”

“You had a job, I think, while the shop was closed?”

Deon nodded. “Your dad called, told me he didn’t know how long it was going to be, so I got a dishwashing job.”

“How was it?”

“It was in Harlem, so the commute was okay. Everything else sucked. People gave me all kinds of shit because of my age, my record. Kind of like the way you talk to your supplier, but not as friendly? Like I know you know him.”

“Yeah, we’ve always talked that way,” Theo said, referring to Enrique. “You can tell when people don’t mean it. And we’ve never meant it. And you really can only do that to your peers. You can’t do that to people below you. Anyway, it’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back, Boss. So - you staying?”

So Deon was aware of of something. Maybe he was told, maybe he just picked it up from the way Theo’s parents spoke to each other when they thought no one was listening. “We’ll see. I got offered a high tech job, but I don’t know if I want it.”

“You told me this place isn’t very glamorous.”

“Yeah, but it’s mine.” Kind of. When his parents retired.

Within a few days, Theo was back to working full shifts, except when he had to go to physical therapy. He didn’t want his parents on their feet so much. He still had his moments - when his heart stopped, or he felt like he couldn’t breathe because of a noise or even just a smell that he thought was blood, but it was better. He was okay.

His parents waited a week to sit him down after the shop was closed. Wisely, they waited until he had a drink in him to approach him.

“We know you have your issues,” his father said. “We knew it before what you said at the hearing.”

“Which was very brave, by the way,” Mom added. “Admitting all that. Not everyone would be willing to do it. Especially if they were about to tell the judge to go easy on him anyway.”

“Your mother and I discussed it,” his father continued - not the best way to start a sentence Theo wasn’t necessarily going to like, “and if you’re not happy here, you shouldn’t be here. We looked at the paperwork while you were away. The business is worth money - not a lot of money, but money. And if nothing else, some chain would be more than happy to buy us out of our lease. It would be enough for us to fully retire, and you to take a job at Rand. Or somewhere else, if that was what you wanted. You shouldn’t feel obligated to stay here because it’s the family shop, or because of what happened.”

“You have nothing to prove to anyone,” his mother added. “All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. We know you’re not always happy here.”

“It’s work. I’m not always going to be happy at work,” he said. But he knew how much they must have built themselves up to this moment. “Let me think about it. I’m a lot better than I was. I think being away helped. I think starting meditation helped. And the therapy. I want to give it another shot.”

His father couldn’t hide that he was pleased, but what he said was, “If that’s what you want.”

  
  


“Stick taught me how to meditate,” Matt said. “Or, it’s more like, he told me  _ to _ meditate. There was not a lot of instruction.” 

“Do you do it often?”

Matt shook his head. “It’s good to help me tune out the world, but I can usually do that automatically. And I don’t really have the time for it.”

At the moment, Theo was trying for twenty minutes a day, but sometimes it was only ten. Or five. Or an hour, when he got up early to do it before work and fell asleep. He bought a cushion so he could sit on the floor like he’d learned to do in India. He didn’t always have the best concentration, or even remotely succeed in clearing his mind, but Tenzin had told him not to worry about that. And Theo’s therapist liked that he was doing it, so that was good. So did Matt, who joined him sometimes, sitting next to him on the floor. Sadie used this opportunity to climb into Theo’s lap, as if to declare, “He’s mine.”

Other than that, Theo went to work, and not a lot else. Just about everyone who saw him asked how he was doing, which was both nice and irritating. 

“People asked about you when you weren’t here,” his father told him. “We had to put up a sign saying that you were fine, and you were taking some time off. And they asked anyway. They asked if we had a GoFundMe page. If insurance hadn’t covered everything at the hospital, we would have put one up.” 

But his father wasn’t the type to take charity. He was old-fashioned about money. Theo didn’t tell him about Danny and Ward’s intervention at the hospital. It would be a big blow to his pride; it would be better for Theo’s parents to just think the system worked for once. 

Theo didn’t think of Danny as a Buddhist master (and Danny didn’t refer to himself as one), but Theo didn’t know any other Buddhists in New York, so he called him. Of course, Danny was more than happy to duck out of work to meet. They sat on a bench not far from the Rand Corp building. Even though Danny said he didn’t have to, Theo brought him a homemade daal he was working on to taste, which Danny happily consumed. 

“Isn’t the shop just another attachment?” Theo asked.

“There’s attachments and then there’s attachments,” Danny said. “I’m going to botch this explanation for sure, but here goes - there’s things that you need to survive. Food, shelter, clothing. The Buddha spent seven years in the forest, naked, eating bird droppings, and he almost died. He realized that way was too strict. He continued to live in the woods throughout his life, but he would go into the nearby villages for food and supplies. He had followers who did the same. So you have the basics. And then you have the lay community, that has to provide those basics for the monks so that they can focus on meditation and prayer. So there’s still agriculture and businesses and governments in Buddhist societies. There’s even devote Buddhists who are rich. Before he left Tibet, the Dalai Lama was the richest person in the country. So people have different attitudes about acquiring wealth, but everyone agrees that you have to have enough to sustain yourself, and if you have more, you can use it to sustain others. If you own a lot of things, it’s how you view the things you have that determines if they’re attachments that are harmful.” He swallowed another spoonful of daal and rice. “It’s all about change. If you can’t handle the idea that things are not always going to be the same - that in fact they’re never going to be the same - then you’re setting yourself up for suffering. But if you say, ‘I have these things now, they serve me, but they could disappear at any time, they are intransient and so am I’ - then that prepares you for what comes next.”

“Which is death.”

“It’s not always  _ next _ , but yeah, death. Our lives are short. We’re supposed to try to eliminate suffering. Sometimes that’s just about finding what makes you happy and doing it. Not everyone can renounce the world and go live in a cave. And even those guys rely on locals to leave them food to eat,” Danny said. “Growing up in K‘un-Lun, all I wanted to do was become the Iron Fist. I thought it would make me happy. It didn’t. When I came to New York, I thought that reclaiming Rand and my parents’ fortune would make me happy. It didn’t. We have to be ready to reassess what makes us happy. What decreases our suffering. What is the cause of our suffering?”

“Attachments.”

“Simply put, yeah, but nothing is that simple. Or, it is, but it’s hard to understand. If it was easy to understand, we’d all be Enlightened.”

This didn’t fully answer Danny’s question, but he hadn’t asked his real question. He knew Danny couldn’t give him the answers he needed because no one could. He had to figure that out for himself. 

“Look, as long as I’m at Rand, or Ward is at Rand, that door is open to you,” Danny said. Theo hadn’t said anything about the job offer, but Danny was really not as dumb as people thought he was. “The shop could burn down next week. Or Rand could go under because of some stupid thing we didn’t forsee. Don’t look for guarantees. Don’t look for permanence. You won’t find it. You have to figure out where you want to be - and who you want to be with - and accept that even if you’re sure of it now, that might change in the future, and that’s okay.”

“Was meditation this therapeutic in K‘un-Lun?”

“I got hit with a stick every time I feel asleep, so no,” Danny said, smiling of course. “It was a rigorous exercise in mind training necessary to become Enlightened in a single lifespan and not be condemned to be reborn in Samsara. But the West plays that down. And all of the stuff about demons eating your organs in Hell while you watch.”

“Trust me,” Theo said, “I got enough of that talk at church.”

  
  


It was another month until Grandad came down to the city with David and Devorah helping with the drive. It was too long for a day trip, so they went to Long Island first, so Grandad could meet all of his great-grandkids and spend some time with his son. The next day, it took two cars (one of them a minivan) to get them all to the shop for dinner. Theo was nervous and excited, but mostly excited. Also, he and Pop cooked the hell out of some roasts for the occasion. 

He was actually more excited to see Andy and his family because they were bringing Mary, and because he hadn’t seen them in person since before the shooting. But it was his Uncle Timmy who came in the door first, and he looked Theo up and down. “You look good. How do you feel?”

“Much better.”

“Can I hug you?”

“Yeah, everything’s more or less healed.” He was polite and assumed that was what he meant, and his uncle pulled him into the deepest hug he could ever remember from him. Aunt Jeanie was usually the one squeezing the life out of him. 

“You cut your hair!” his aunt said, even though by now, it was really starting to return to its old length. “How was India?”

“It was great. Are you ready for some vegetarian Indian cuisine?”

“Dear G-d no.”

“Good, because we didn’t make any.”

Usually Andy’s kids rushed Foggy because he had candy in his pockets, but this time they full-on tackled Theo both with their bodies and their questions.

“Uncle Theo, can we meet your cat?”

“Uncle Theo, did you become an Indian in India?”

“Uncle Theo, can we see your scars again?”

“Kids!” Andy shouted as he entered, baby carrier in one hand and actual baby in the other. “What did I say about ganging up on Uncle Theo? Go do it to Uncle Foggy!”

“Hey!” Foggy said, but that didn’t prevent him welcoming the kids with open arms. 

“And no candy until after dinner!” Jo shouted as she came in with a bag full of baby supplies. She kissed Theo on the cheek. “How are you?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that. I’m fine. How was spending time with Grandad?”

“Bizarre. And awesome,” Andy told him. “Crazy story about him getting kicked out of the family, right? What a bunch of pricks we were.”

“It was a different time,” Theo said as he accepted Mary from Andy. She could hold herself up on her own now. “You’ve gotten so big!” She had very light blond hair, which they all had as kids as far as he could remember. He stepped out of the way so Grandad could enter, since he needed more time to navigate his way around. “Hi, Grandad. We made a beef roast.”

“Tell them it’s bad for my cholesterol,” he said. 

“It’s bad for everyone’s cholesterol.”

“This place hasn’t changed at all,” Grandad said. “You know, if not for that mob money, I don’t think the business would have lasted six months. I was a terrible businessman. I was good at killing chickens and keeping my mouth shut but that was about it.” He patted Theo on the cheek. “I know we have you and Foggy to thank for all of this.”

“The shop? He hasn’t worked here a day in his life. And we’re the better for it.”

“ _ I hear you! I can hear you talking about me! _ ”

The dinner went well. After they all had a few drinks - which happened very quickly - all of the lingering tension was gone and they were a family again. A family that was absolutely devoted to trying to convince Theo and his grandfather to eat meat. 

At some point, Grandad pulled Theo away and insisted in him showing him the back room, and Grandad pointed out a few things he remembered about why what dent was where. 

“Your father told me some things,” he said to Theo. “About your feelings on the shop. You don’t have to keep it, you know. Certainly not because of me, and not because of anyone else.”

Theo looked at his feet. “I know.”

“He said you were having some trouble. You have some bad days. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“Everyone hates going to work  _ sometimes _ ,” Theo said, but he knew Grandad wanted a more serious answer. “I want to keep it, Grandad. At least for the time being. Not every day is good but - the days that are good, they’re really good. They’re better than any office job. Plus, I don’t think Rand Corp would let me drink and curse so fuckin’ much.”

“At least you have your priorities,” his grandfather said. “Let’s get back, or they might come to see if we fell and we can’t get up.”

“Sure thing, Grandad,” Theo said with a smile.


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were two anonymous tips, and no one guessed the first tipper (though I didn't give enough information for you to be able to guess), and only one person guessed the second one correctly that I know about.

“It’s going to be fine,” Karen said. “He’s like a big teddy bear.”

“When he’s not murdering people.”

“When he’s not murdering people, yes.”

Theo insisted to himself that he could do this - that he was brave enough to face the man who put Duncan in prison to protect him. Other than Matt, that was. 

Frank was in the last booth of the diner. He really did look different with a beard. Not like the guy from TV at all. He looked good in a suit - much better than the actor who played him in some adult movies Theo might have inadvertently stumbled upon.

Theo took a deep breath and walked over, slipping into the booth across from Frank Castle and his coffee. This was a scheduled meeting, so Frank wasn’t surprised when he looked up from his paper.

“Hey,” Theo said with a meager wave. “Um, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Frank said. He wasn’t quite mellow, but his voice was definitely calm. And confident. “How are you?”

“Better. A lot better. I can get my arm up about here.” He raised his arm so that it was at about a seventy-five degree angle. “They think that might be it, though.”

“Bodies take time. To heal,” Frank said. Theo had certainly heard it before, but never did it sound so authoritative from someone who didn’t work in the medical field. From someone who had experience. It was reassuring.

Theo told the approaching waitress that he was fine, thank you very much, and got right down to business. “I wanted to thank you. For - what you did. Allegedly.”

“You sound like you spend too much time around lawyers,” Frank said. “Not a surprise.”

“I like lawyers.”

“Yeah, they come in handy. Look, you don’t have to thank me for doing what I do.”

“But you didn’t - um, do the thing you normally do.”

“I didn’t know you, and I didn’t know the guy. I usually need a little more motivation than that. But I knew who you were to Red. He didn’t tell me, but Karen did.”

“His suit’s not red anymore.”

Frank shrugged. He didn’t look like he cared. “The point is, I knew it was better to let him call the shots. And when it comes down to it, he’s a real altar boy.”

Theo chuckled. He could not imagine Matt as an altar boy. He could barely imagine Matt in  _ church _ and Matt went all the time. “Then I guess thanks for talking to Matt first? And for whatever help you gave him.”

“You’re welcome.” It sounded like Frank was only accepting the thanks because Theo was so insistent. 

“Did you ever figure out who sent you the message? I don’t think it could be anyone I know. And Matt can’t figure it out, which is saying something.”

“I do have a reputation,” Frank said, “but someone’s looking out for you. I don’t know who, but you shouldn’t lose sleep over it. If they want to be found, they’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” Theo said. “I guess so.”

  
  


Several Months Ago

Detective Stackert made his entrance late, but Madame Gao needed very little sleep anyway. She did not hide her disappointment when he handed over the hospital report, even though she knew its contents. “It is not like Frank Castle to let someone off with a warning.”

“I’m sorry - I can’t explain that. We told him everything he needed to know.”

He was terrified of her, but Madame Gao was bored by it. She tossed the papers aside. “This will have to be sufficient.” 

“Should he know?” the detective asked, referring to the Nelson boy.

“No. I don’t want to scare him off,” Madame Gao said. “It is so hard to find a good butcher these days.”

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All hail LachesisMeg, the supreme and mighty beta. 
> 
> But seriously, she worked really hard on this long and complex fic, and had to rush things a couple times for me, and she deserves a round of praise from everyone who enjoyed this fic if you want to leave a comment to that effect.
> 
> I still have some steam for this series, and there are three follow-up stories in process or in editing, but they're returning to the short-form where I explore one or two ideas and then am done with it. And you're always welcome to leave prompts. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this fic and thank you for reading!


End file.
